This Night is Sparkling
by ariqui
Summary: AU!Fic. Dameron. Damian McGinty lives the life of Beverly Hills houses and fancy dinner parties. Cameron Mitchell is a struggling musician just barely getting by. This is the story of how they met, and where their relationship ended up leading them.
1. Chapter 1

**Name:** This Night is Sparkling (1/?)

**Pairing:** Dameron

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Damian McGinty and Cameron Mitchell both belong to themselves. I am only writing this work of fiction based on their portrayals on "The Glee Project". None of this has actually happened in real life as far as I know.

**Summary:** AU!Fic. Damian McGinty is the son of an Irish multi-million dollar business tycoon, living the life of Beverly Hills Estates and fancy dinner parties. Cameron Mitchell is a struggling musician in L.A., barely making enough money to get by. Through an odd set of circumstances and coincidences, they end up meeting. This is the story of their relationship as it grows with them in two separate worlds.

**Notes:** So, I had posted this story up on tumblr a few weeks ago, writing all the way up to chapter eight. Unfortunately, there seems to be some errors appearing up on my blog, preventing people from reading it. Instead of copy/pasting everything all over again in new post, wearetomorrow13, amazing author of "Those Damn Implications", suggested I created a fanfiction account. So here I am! I'm going to try to post up all eight chapters right now, so I can link 'em.

I'm just gonna assume every one reading this is the people who have already liked the story on tumblr, so hi guys! *blows kisses*

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><p>Damian's palms flattened along the smooth marble rail of the balcony. His eyes were shut as he sniffed in the fresh Southern California air. But that was the problem. That wasn't the air he wanted to smell. His grip suddenly tightened on the banister as he tilted his head down a sighed heavily. It was no use.<p>

No matter how many times he stood out there with his eyes shut and his face up towards the sky, he just couldn't seem to go back to Derry.

Opening his eyes, he shook his head. "I'm an idiot," he said to himself dejectedly, looking forward. The brilliant lights of L.A spread out before him. He had already memorized all of the different colors from being out there so many nights, and he knew that this was a view people would kill to have right outside their bedroom walls. Damian dropped a little lower so that he was supporting his body with forearms. Even he had to admit, the view really was stunning.

"Damian?" Damian straightened up and turned around to look from the entrance of the balcony through his room to the opening door. His mother, Megan, attentively stepped inside, dressed up in her night robe and slippers. She looked him over with a soft smile. "What are you doing up so late? Are you alright?"

"Aye, yeah of course," he said back, walking into the room and shutting the glass balcony door behind him. He spread the curtain to cover it and turned back to watch his mother walk farther into the room with a knowing look on her face. The smile on Damian's face dropped and he sighed heavily. He walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. He felt the weight of his mom shift the mattress as she sat down on the other end.

He felt her eyes on him as a long silence settled between them.

When she didn't say anything Damian sighed and said quietly, "I miss Ireland."

"Oh, sweetie." Damian looked up at her and she moved some hair out of his eyes in a loving gesture. With a sad smile, she said, "We've been living here for four years now, hasn't the homesickness faded a bit?"

Damian moved his head away from her hand. "It's just, I've been thinking…" he started, trying to find the right words to say. "Back before the company became so huge—"

"Dam, we've been over this," his mom said gently, he looked back to see her tucking a lock of her own brown hair behind her ear. Damian shook his head.

"I was normal there, mom, people didn't care. We were still at their level, ya'know? It didn't matter that we became richer, money never seemed to change who we were. Here…"

His fingers curled into the comforter of his bed, and he looked down to stare at them. "It defines you, here. I…miss the way we were, I guess."

Damian didn't look back at his mother after that, though he felt her staring at him. He already knew what he would see in her eyes if he looked up; understanding and unconditional love. However, he knew there would also be pity, and the slightest amount of disappointment behind all of it. She tapped his hand comfortingly.

"You think too much," she said, leaning over to place a kiss on the top of his head. The mattress shifted once more as she got up and left the room. Damian didn't move from his spot on the bed for a few moments after the door shut before suddenly sighing loudly and throwing himself backwards onto the sheets.

* * *

><p>"Non-fat Bananarama Mocha. Just a little bit of whipped cream at the top."<p>

Cameron Mitchell sat up on-stage, perched on top of a stool. His eyes were cast down as his fingers strummed at the old, beaten-up guitar in his lap. The scent of coffee and baked goods emanated from everywhere at the coffeehouse, the people occupying it dotting only a few of the seats. He cleared his throat before leaning towards the microphone in front of him.

"_I worry, I weigh three times my body_

_I worry, I throw my fear around,"_

There was once a time, back in high school, when Cameron was sure that he had promised himself that he would give his all for every song he sung. Over the years, his promise had stayed true to himself. But after awhile, as much as he hated to admit it, he just got so tired of it all. Tired of this old guitar he's had since Junior year, tired of playing in this tiny café somehow tucked in the middle of nowhere while simultaneously being in the center of L.A., tired of the bills, and tired of nobody listening.

"_But I will bend the light, pretend that it somehow lingered on,_

_Well all I got's,_

_Awhoo ooh, Awhoo ooh,"_

Despite this, he held on to his dream of one day going to be an actual musician. One day he wouldn't have to work at this café with the lowest paycheck ever, struggling to pay student loans and the rent for his tiny, crappy little apartment. He wanted to see people to line up to listen to his music, not for fame, but because they just wanted to listen to _his_ music.

"Hello! I said a little whipped cream! Did I ask for a freakin' Mount Everest on the top of my mocha? I expect a free drink, hotshot!"

Unfortunately, by the way his life was going, that little dream might take a few more months. Or years. Hopefully a little less than a decade.

"_And I won't pay no mind,_

'_Cause it won't, and it won't_

'_Cause it can't…"_

Later that night, after his last song was finished, Cameron sat up on the black stool for a moment watching the sole busboy clean up coffee stains and muffin crumbs from the tables. He ran a hand through his hair as he pushed off of the stool and started to tuck his guitar away into its case. The door of the of café suddenly opened, the tiny bell at the top chiming. The bus boy continued cleaning and Cameron didn't bother to look up.

"Hey Marissa," he said automatically, clicking the case shut. He looked up to see a beautiful girl with reddish-brown hair smiling down at him. "Hey there stud."

Cameron laughed a little as he got up with the handle of his guitar case in his hand and gave an awkward one-armed hug to his friend. "Haven't seen you in a while," he said conversationally as he stepped down from the stage. Marissa shrugged and stuck her hands inside her pockets. "The internship has me running some errands, I haven't had any free time lately. So how was work?"

"Oh, great. A chick spilled coffee on her boyfriend's laptop, they broke up right there on the spot. I sang a song dedicated to them."

Marissa nodded. "Impressive. Stella's toy poodle barfed on her cashmere sweater so she made me wear it as a punishment for getting her dog sick." Stella was one of the supervisors of the fashion firm Marissa's internship was placed.

Cameron winced. Marissa didn't seem to notice as she simply shrugged and asked, "So how are you and Macy doing? I haven't heard from her in awhile."

Cameron bit the inside of his cheek as he walked over to an empty table and sat down. Marissa cocked her head towards him curiously as she took the chair opposite of him. "We're uh…" Cameron started hesitantly. "We're good."

"That took you awhile," Marissa said, her tone slightly accusing. Cameron sighed loudly and leaned back in his chair.

"Macy's just been…stressed, lately, you know? It-It just doesn't feel like we're on the same page anymore-"

"Is she on her period?" Marissa cut in, not a hint of shame in her voice. Cameron shot forward and grabbed the edge of the table.

"What, no! Gross! I mean, I don't know!" he spluttered. Marissa shrugged and leaned back in her own chair.

"If a guy wants to survive a long-term relationship with a woman, it helps to know the flow of the tides," she said wisely, tenting up her hands as if she were some sort of love guru.

"Who says that?" Cameron asked incredulously. "No one says that!" Marissa giggled childishly at his reaction.

"Anyways, I don't think Macy's at…high-tide or whatever. I doubt a girl can be on her flow for over two month—"

"Wait, wait," Marissa suddenly said, her voice getting serious. "You and Macy have been having problems for that long?"

Cameron shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't say problems exactly. Just, little disagreements. Frequent ones, but they're little, we're fine."

"Yeah, but they add up, Cam," she said, looking seriously concerned for her friend. Cameron shook his head and stood up from the chair. "Look," he said, looking down at her. "I know how to handle my relationships, okay? Don't worry about it."

Cameron headed for the door and looked over his shoulder before leaving, "I'll see you, Marissa."

When the bell chimed after Cameron left, Marissa rubbed her temples and let out a long breath.

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><p><strong>End Notes:<strong> Tell me if this works out, 'kay guys? And if you're reading this because you just happened upon it, tell me what you think of it, please and thanks?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:** (Previous notes on the chapter when it was first posted...) Alright, apparently some of you liked it! I had a very big conflict this chapter because I was pondering either to make it twice as long as the last chapter and have Damian and Cameron meet by the third chapter, or just keep the writing length semi-consistent.

This would've been eight pages long if I decided on the former, _so this is gonna be a really long beginning, sorry guys_. I'll try to make up for it!…Somehow. Also: there's going to be many Celtic Thunder cameos in this fic (mentioning right now because the first one makes his appearance in this chappie) and the song Cameron sings is "Your Song". Very much well-known, I know, but I might as well put it in here.

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><p>It was a typical family breakfast in the McGinty household. Damian, his mom, and his dad were sitting at a table much too big for just the three of them and the lack of conversation seemed to stretch throughout the entire dining room. His mother was humming some sort of morning tune to start off the day as she ate, and his father was leaning back in his chair, reading the paper.<p>

Damian grabbed a piece of bacon off of his plate and chewed on it lazily. Just like any other morning.

And also like any other morning, it felt as though talking was forbidden at the table.

Suddenly his father whipped his paper down in front of him, making both Damian and his mom look up at the noise. He looked between the two of them and said in a business-like tone, "We have an engagement tomorrow night. I've set up a dinner party."

Damian resisted the urge to roll his eyes at this and tried to maintain an interested front. "Engagement" was his least favorite word to come out of his dad's mouth. It almost always winded down to, "Make a good impression otherwise you've screwed over the family for the next four generations."

"Damian, I'll be sending you to the tailor later today. I want you to look extra special tomorrow," he father said, folding the paper to look at another section.

Damian raised an eyebrow at this. His father look up at him and smiled, taking his curiosity as eagerness. "There are people we're going to meet tonight."

"Who?" his mother asked. Damian could hear the apprehensive tinge in her voice, though his father didn't seem to notice.

"The Knight's," he said. The name made Damian sit up straighter in his seat and his eyes widen, surprise evident. The Knight family owned a multi-_billion_ dollar company, specializing in banking and business. Their company was more than twice as big than his father's own advertisement company.

And Damian liked to think that his dad's company was pretty huge.

The name made his mother react strongly as well. Her jaw dropped and she stared at his father in disbelief. His father seemed happy at the immediate reaction his family gave.

"Yep!" he said in response to the unasked question. "The Knight's. I'm going to be discussing business terms with Mr. Knight, and Damian, they have a daughter around your age as well. I thought you two might get along with each other."

Damian slowly looked down at the table, trying to hide his very obvious displeasure and discomfort at this. Fortunately, no matter how obvious it was, his dad didn't notice it in the slightest.

His mother suddenly nudged him with her elbow. He looked over and she whispered, "Bride's parents get to pay for the wedding, we have nothing to worry about."

Damian chuckled. His father frowned and looked sharply at them, making them both quickly straighten up and look back at him with rapt attention.

"This is serious, you two," he said sternly. "The Knight's are a very prominent and successful family here in California. It would be very beneficial of the company for me to make friends with Mr. Knight."

Damian bit the inside of his cheek, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and already having a good guess of what the next topic of conversation would. He dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud "clank", capturing the attention of both his parents.

"I'll clean up," he said, getting up and starting to pick up the dishes. He had to get out of the room fast, lest he be subject for another lengthy lecture about the "absolute importance of the company to this family".

"Oh Damian, don't be silly, you don't have to do that," his father said, trying to wave him off.

Damian looked at him with his arms full of plates and he smiled. "I insist."

Before he could hear anymore protests, Damian hurriedly walked across the hard-wood floors of the dining room and through the swinging doors of the kitchen. A feeling of accomplishment washed over him, as if he had just beaten a hard level in a video game.

However, as the door swished shut, he overheard his father say to his mom, "The boy has got to stop living like he's poverty, I'm tellin' you—"

"Aaron!"

Damian pretended he didn't hear it as he set the plates down beside the large sink.

At the counter opposite of the sink, the cook had been brushing off a few missed food trimmings. When he heard the clattering of the plates, he looked over his shoulder in surprise but smiled when he saw Damian there.

The cook himself was actually very young, with longer-than-average blond hair and a little scruff on his chin. He looked more like a guy you'd see at rave parties in the middle of the night rather than working as a cook in Beverly Hills.

"Morning Keith," Damian said listlessly as he dropped a plate into the sink and turned on the water.

"Well, fancy pajamas," he said teasingly, turning back around to the counter. "Decided to come down to the working class again, I see."

Damian turned and leaned back against the counter with an unamused look on his face. Keith didn't seem fazed, as he copied the action and looked at Damian with a smug grin on his face. After about five seconds into this, Damian gave up and turned back around. However, he still said over his shoulder, "You have a funny hat."

The smile on Keith's face turned into one of concern as he walked over to the sink alongside Damian. "Something the matter, buddy?" he asked, putting his hands in the sink to run them under the hot water.

Damian didn't answer, instead opting to just continue washing the dish he had in his hands. Keith looked at him for a moment before abruptly slinging an arm over his shoulder, his hand still dripping wet. Damian looked down at it as he felt the water start to soak through to his shoulder. He sighed and set down the dish.

Not bothering to look over at Keith, he said somberly, "Dad's planned a party, tomorrow night…"

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><p><em>"And you can tell everybody, this is your song,<em>

_It may be quite simple but, now that it's done…_

_I hope you don't mind,_

_I hope you don't—"_

"Cam? Cameron." A string on the guitar twanged as Cameron messed up on a chord to look down at the barista who had interrupted. She handed him a note and gestured toward the mic. He nodded in understanding and she smiled and turned to go back behind the counter.

Unfolding the note, he leaned forward towards the microphone and announced, "Excuse me everyone, may I have your attention please."

As usual, there weren't that many people there, however the few that were there turned their heads towards him. He looked down at the note and read, "To the person with the black scooter, your vehicle is getting towed."

He paused as his eyes darted around the restaurant. Nobody got up. "The owner of a black scooter, your vehicle is getting towed," he repeated, a little louder.

He paused again as he stared back at the note in puzzlement. Something suddenly clicked in his head and he practically threw his guitar onto the floor as he jumped off of the stool.

"Oh crap that's mine!" he yelled loudly enough for the entire café to hear even without the microphone.

He ran out the door just in time to see a white, burly man throw his scooter carelessly into the back of a rusting tow truck. Another man, African-American and just as burly as his friend, seemed to be writing something down on a notepad.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Cameron yelled, waving his arms to get there attention. The white one didn't seem to pay him any mind as he opened the driver's side door of the car. Cameron quickly walked over to the one writing on the notepad. He looked up at him for a second, uninterested. That didn't matter to Cameron as he asked angrily, "Why are you taking my scooter?"

"It was parked by an empty meter," the man said, flipping the notepad closed and paying all of his attention to Cameron. Cameron looked over to where he had parked his scooter that morning and, sure enough, there was a shiny parking meter right there.

"When did they install that?" he asked exasperatedly. "I park here everyday!"

"Just last night," the other man replied simply, turning around and walking towards the passenger's side of the truck. Cameron ran in front of him, holding up his hands to get him to stop.

"Wait! J-Just, wait," he said. He let his hands fall to his sides and looked at the man who seemed irritated at more of his time being wasted. "I can't walk home, you have got to give me a break!"

"You know what helps you get places quicker?" the man said, pointing a finger a Cameron. "A car."

He walked right past him and slid into the passenger seat of the tow truck. Cameron got out of the way and stared in disbelief as they drove away with his only source of transportation.

"Well maybe I'd have a car if my job didn't suck so much!" he yelled after them as the truck began to round a corner. "And scooters are better for the environment!"

Later on, that evening, Cameron was sitting at an empty table just as the place was beginning to close. He already felt pretty low, but he didn't let that make him quit halfway through his work day. He'd need the money now to buy his towed scooter. It was fine, he'd just have to carpool for the next couple of weeks to and from work.

"Hey there kiddo, how you doin'?" Cameron looked up from the table to see his boss, Mr. Baum, the owner of _Baumer's_. He was a very short man, with a balding, sunspot-covered head and squinty little eyes. He pretended to be very nice and intelligent, but as anyone who had ever worked for him would tell you, that wasn't what he was really like at all. He was very cheap, often made very bad business decisions, and was a fan of passive-aggressive comments towards every person who worked under him.

Cameron often wondered at what point at in his life had he sunk so low as to have this man as his boss.

"I'm doing alright, I guess," he said, quirking a little half-smile up at his boss. Mr. Baum nodded for a moment before taking the chair across from Cameron.

"Look, Cam, you know I love you…" his boss started. Cameron's face dropped like a stone. "But, the place isn't doin' too good, y'know, and the recession just makes things so much harder to pay off…"

Mr. Baum shrugged. "We decided to spice the place up a bit. We're puttin' up a karaoke machine on the stage tomorrow."

Cameron looked at Mr. Baum for a moment before laughing like it was a practical joke. "Mr. Baum, that's crazy. Where would I play?"

"That's the part I was getting to," the older man said, shaking his finger at Cameron. He folded his hands in front of him and paused for a moment. "We've…decided to let you go, Cam. I mean, we can't afford to pay for you anymore—"

"You barely pay me in the first place!" Cameron suddenly shouted, standing up abruptly from the table. Mr. Baum held up his hands.

"Now there's no need to get upset—"

"Upset? _Upset_? Of course I'm gonna be _upset_, you're firing me right now!"

"Actually it's more like a lay-off—"

"I need this job!" Cameron said desperately, leaning forward on the table. He held up his hands and began counting off his reasons. "I-I have student loans to pay, apartment rent, a girlfriend. My scooter just got towed, you saw that, didn't you?"

"Ain't it about time you got a car anyway?" he asked. Cameron ignored him. He leaned even more over the table and looked right into his boss' eyes.

"Can't you see how much I need this?"

Five minutes later, Cameron stood dejectedly outside of _Baumer's_, minus a job. He pulled out his cellphone and pressed "4" on the speed dial.

"_Cam?"_

"Macy? …I need a ride home."

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><p><strong>End notes:<strong> As I said before; be prepared for a very long beginning and _sorry_ again for that! I swear there is a point to all of this exposition! I still feel iffy about how I'm writing the rest of Celtic Thunder, but I've made them a pretty important part of the story, so I guess there's no turning back. :/. And in this universe, parking meters can be built overnight :D. (Poetic license yay!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes:** (Previous important notes...) Not much to say on this chapter. The only important thing, I suppose, is that I'm writing the _old_ Celtic Thunder. The one before Paul and Ryan left (That seriously sucked when I found that out. I wanted to love all of them at the same time!) and before Emmet joined (Sorry, but I can barely write the original members! I don't want to end up butchering him. With bad writing.)

* * *

><p>Right in between the time-frame of Cameron's moped being taken away and Cameron's job being taken away as well, Damian was hurrying down the large steps of his house as fast as he could. He practically ran through the foyer and threw open the large, double front doors.<p>

"'Ello there Mr. Mcginty," he heard a familiar voice say some ways in front of him.

He smiled when he saw that a limo was already parked in front of him, the chauffer smirking at him through the rolled-down front window. Damian stepped down the porch steps and opened the front passenger door rather than the door to the seats in the back.

"Good afternoon Paul," he greeted as he slid inside and shut the door.

Mr. Paul Byrom was quite possibly one of Damian's absolute favorite people. He was like a big brother, despite Damian having only known him for only a few years. Even though Paul teased him all the time, he was actually the only reason Damian liked using the limo to travel around the city.

"So," he started, starting up the car. "I hear you have a big party tomorrow," He looked over just as Damian gave him a confused glance.

He shrugged. "Your dad told me."

Damian nodded in understanding. "Yeah, are you going to be there?"

"Oh definitely!" he said, as they drove off of the estate. "You can drop by outside while I'm being the best darn valet I can be."

"Is that in your job description?" Damian asked skeptically, looking at Paul. "Did my dad force you to do that?"

"What? Force? Never!" Paul quickly said, speaking as though the entire idea were preposterous. Glancing at Damian, he continued, "Haven't you heard of overtime, my good man? No one has to force me into anything."

Damian still wasn't convinced as he stared at Paul even when he turned his head to look through the windshield. "'No one has to force you'?" Damian repeated, a crooked smile beginning to form on his face. "Yeah, that's definitely true. Absolutely nothing is forcing you to continue to work for the snobbiest Irish family in Los Angeles."

Paul simply shrugged. "To be fair, your dad is the only snob—"

Damian elbowed him, though the action only made him and Paul both begin laughing. After that, the conversation just steered into comfortable small talk. As they drove through the busy roads of L.A., Paul suddenly asked him, "Why's your dad throwing this party anyway?"

Damian shrugged. "The Knights. Dad's trying to merge their companies I think, and…" he trailed off. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated his next words. Paul looked over at him.

"Well don't just stop there!" he said. "'And' what?"

Damian shook his head. "Nah, nah, it's nothing. It's nothing!"

"Damian…" Paul said warningly. "I swear to God if you don't tell me I'm going to smack you on the back of the head."

"Look, my dad just wants to introduce me to their daughter, that's it," Damian explained, holding his hands up to signify how little it mattered.

"What?" Paul asked in disbelief. "For chrissakes, we're not in Ye Olde Ireland anymore. You certainly aren't gonna be getting married anytime soon."

Damian stared at Paul again, as if expecting him to say something else. He didn't seem to notice as a long silence stretched in between them. Damian made an obvious cough, making Paul jump comically in his seat.

"Oh yeah, and the whole gay thing. That's an issue too."

Damian crossed his arms scoffed as Paul smirked at him. The older man tilted his head in confusion. "You see, what I don't understand is that you _told_ your dad you were gay…Is he just not acknowledging it?"

Damian froze in his seat and his eyes widened. After a long pause of him not saying anything, Paul looked over at him quizzically. "Something wrong?"

He slowly turned his head to Paul with a sheepish look.

A foot slammed on the brakes, making Damian lurch forward and the seatbelt dig into his chest. He stamped his hands on the dashboard of the car and looked over at Paul. "What the hell are ya' doin'?"

"Damian Joseph McGinty, you haven't told your father yet?" Paul yelled, looking at the younger man.

"I've been meaning to!" Damian said defensively. He heard the cars behind them begin honking and he looked toward the rearview mirror at the backup they were starting to cause. Paul didn't seem to notice as he proceeded to look at Damian with frustration.

"You're telling me," he started, "that when you were at your summer house and he caught you making out, I repeat, _making out_, with the lifeguard, he didn't think anything was amiss?"

"I explained that to him," Damian countered.

"Oh, you did?"

"Yes, I did."

"What'd you say?"

"His grandmother had died the day before so I went to hug him. He tripped, I fell on the bed, and he fell on top of me," Damian explained quickly, sounding almost proud of himself. He looked over at Paul who was staring at him in disbelief.

Damian absent-mindedly tapped his fingers against the sides of his arms for a couple seconds. When Paul was still staring at him, he snapped at him, "What, did you want me to tell him he fell on top of me with his tongue? Because—"

"Okay!" Paul interrupted, smacking the steering wheel. "I'm not going to ask how he bought that, but you are going to have to tell him sooner or later Damian."

"Are we seriously still talking about this?" Damian yelled. "In case you hadn't noticed, you parked in the middle of the freeway!"

"Oh come on, you're rich! You can do whatever ya' want!" Paul said, brushing off Damian's concern.

"Clarification, _I'm_ rich. If this car gets rear-ended, it goes on_ your_ tab!"

"No it doesn't. It's not my car, it's the property of _your_ dad. Ergo, your dad would have to pay for it."

They sat there arguing for a full minute about who would have to pay for limo damages. The car only started up again when a very large, very angry, man in a trucker cap tapped on Paul's window. Damian had never seen a limousine go from zero to_ really fast_ in such a short amount of time.

* * *

><p>Cameron sat in the passenger's seat of Macy's car as she drove. They hadn't said anything other than Cameron simply explaining to her, "I got fired."<p>

The silence wasn't comfortable, either. Cameron couldn't stop thinking about what Marissa had said to him yesterday and it seemed as if Macy was consumed with troubling thoughts of her own. When the car slowed to a stop as they came to a red light, everything seemed to spill over in both of their heads.

"Hey Macy—"

"Look, Cam—"

They both stopped as they were turning towards each other. Cameron scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh, you start."

"No, no, it's fine. You can," Macy said quickly.

"Nah, it's not all that important—"

"This isn't working, Cam," she suddenly stated, not letting him finish. He froze and looked up at her.

"Wha—? What isn't working?" he asked, bringing down his hand and furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Us," Macy clarified, turning back to face the steering wheel. "I don't know, our spark, I guess. It's gone."

"Mace, what are you talking about—" Cameron started.

"You know what I'm talking about!" Macy cried exasperatedly. Neither of them spoke for a moment after the outburst. Macy started the car again as the light turned from yellow to green. Staring straight ahead, she said in a softer voice , "I'm sorry."

Cameron was still stunned. He looked everywhere in the car but at her before saying, "I just don't understand. We're doing fine."

She laughed humorlessly. "No we're not, Cam. We haven't been 'fine' in awhile." She sighed and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

"Let's face it. We're not in high school anymore, I can feel ourselves getting older. Cameron, I think you're amazing, no, I _know_ you are amazing. But, lately, when I start thinking of where I see myself in ten years…you're just not there," she said, looking over at him sadly.

Cameron wiped his face with a hand and let out a long breath. "…I can't believe this," he muttered to himself, covering his forehead.

"Oh, Cam," Macy said desperately, using her right hand to rub up and down the side of his arm. "You know it's for the best."

"No, it's not that," Cameron said, leaning forward and letting his elbows rest on his knees. A smile began to crack on his face, though it wasn't happy at all.

"This has…this has just been one of the worst days ever," he said, his voice cutting out a couple times. "I just got fired from an already pretty crappy job because I'm being replaced by a karaoke machine, I've been living off of Hamburger Helper and movie popcorn for the past week, my girlfriend is breaking up with me inside her car, and the only reason I'm even in her car is because my scooter got towed today!"

"Oh thank God," Macy breathed. "I always _hated_ that scooter—"

"I liked that scooter!" Cameron yelled, his emotions finally turning from disbelief to anger. "That scooter was amazing!"

The entire car sank into silence, the only sound being Cameron's breathing after his little explosion. Even when he had calmed down the conversation continued to be stunted between them. Cameron couldn't bring himself to look back at Macy, instead leaning against the window to stare out at the streetlights.

After a few minutes of silent driving Macy suddenly said to him, "That's the first time that you've ever told me about your day."

Cameron nodded. "Yeah. You know, it actually feels kinda good. We should've done that more often."

"Uh-huh, we should've."

There was a brief pause.

Cameron turned his head towards Macy. "Are we still broken—?"

"Completely."

* * *

><p><strong>End notes:<strong> I…honestly don't have that much to say on this chapter. I don't think it's all the interesting, honestly, compared to the next one. Still, I felt like this chapter was sort of crucial, y'know?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes:** (Previous Notes...) Wassup? I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, though editing it made me think twice about how I went about it. It's probably just me being a pessimist though *kanyeshrug*.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Damian stared down at his bed. Spread out on top of the sheets was a fresh, crisp, clean suit, just delivered.<p>

As he stared at it, he brought a hand up to his face to stifle a yawn and to rub the sleep from his eyes. He had been exhausted the previous night because he had spent so long at the tailor's.

It was obvious his dad had made a call before Damian got there because the tailor had made him stand in his extravagant store for hours being poked and prodded with needles and strangled with tape measures and assaulted with suits that were different colors but_ that all looked the same_. Just so Damian could wear the "perfect outfit".

Damian took a deep breath and held up the jacket. 'And now I have this,' he thought to himself, tilting his head. 'Well, I guess it's not so bad. It does look good on me.'

As he stared at the suit, the door to his bedroom suddenly opened. Damian looked over and set the jacket back down on the bed. A tall, smart-looking bald man stuck his head into the room. Damian smiled and gave a small wave to him, giving the man permission to come inside.

"Morning Damian," the man said, stepping inside and walking next to him. "That what you're wearing tonight? Snazzy."

"Good to see you, George," Damian greeted. "Though, what are you doing here exactly? I shouldn't have any lessons this week." His tutor stuck in his hands in his pockets as he nonchalantly walked around behind Damian.

"Oh, you know, I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by. Maybe have a chat with your mom…" George stopped and turned to smack him on the back of the head, hard.

"Ow!" Damian yelled out, rubbing the sore spot.

"And abuse you silly for not comin' out to yer father yet!"

Damian whipped around to face the older man. "Paul told you?"

"He told us, too."

Both Damian and George turned the heads towards the door to see two men leaning against opposite sides of the door frame. One was black-haired, Ryan, and the other brunette, Neil. Both were dressed up with white long-sleeved button-ups, white gloves, and black vests; the average attire for the butlers.

Damian's face turned red as the two of them pushed off the door frame and walked farther into his room. "Dear God," he said, turning around and running a hand through his hair. "Does everybody know?"

It was a rhetorical question. "Well, you know, just everyone who matters," Ryan said, rocking back on his heels. "Plus all the help in the estate."

"_What?_" Damian shouted, whipping around to face all three of men. "Even the ones who didn't even know I was gay?"

The three men looked between each other, all of them stuffing their hands in their pockets.

Damian clenched his fists and looked down at the ground for a moment. "You know what?" he said, unclenching them and opening up his palms in front of him. "It's fine."

He moved around to sit on the edge of his bed. Neil, Ryan, and George walked over to stand in front of him.

"I—" Damian stopped himself and sighed. "It shouldn't have to be a big deal, right?"

"We're not the ones treating it like a big deal," Neil said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I know," Damian nodded. He shut his eyes.

"…I wish I was straight."

"Hey, now don't say things like that," George said, sitting next to Damian and clapping a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

"But it's not like straight people have to come out," he uttered distantly. "Or if they did, it wouldn't be as—"

"Frustrating?" Neil cut in.

"Difficult?" Ryan tried.

"Scary," Damian said, looking up at all three of them with a sad look in his eyes.

There was silence in the room as all four of them thought about the circumstances and obstacles Damian faced.

All of a sudden, Neil snapped his fingers. "Megan! Hey, Megan didn't care when you told her, right? I mean, she is your mom after all."

"Of course she didn't care!" Damian said quickly, his voice not quite sounding right. They looked at him. Damian quickly averted his eyes.

George stood up from the bed and crossed his arms. "Oh my God, you haven't even come out to your own mother yet."

Damian stuck his tongue behind his teeth, and tried to avoid all of their stares. He paused before looking up at all of them and saying, "…she never asked?"

"Damian—"

"You're kidding—"

"Hey, I don't need to be rushed!" Damian said quickly, standing up. "I mean, the only reason you guys know about it is because—"

"We're your own personal therapists?" Ryan interrupted. "I mean honestly, with the load of angst you dump on all five of us—" he was also referring to Keith and Paul, "—it's a wonder your parents haven't already bought you a shrink."

"Oh please, me complaining about my teenage problems are the highlight of all your days," Damian said snippily. "Though I will admit, I absolutely do need more friends my age."

"Well, to be fair, all of us act like teenagers already," Neil said, shrugging. "I mean look at everything we've gone through for the past four years—"

"The canoeing incident," George said.

"That one time Paul decided to cook popcorn," Ryan nodded.

"The whoopee cushion," Damian said, a sudden grin forming on his face.

The other three began laughing when it was brought up, Damian laughing along with them. Now that they had remembered it, he just knew none of the three would miss the opportunity of reminding Paul again what had happened that April Fool's Day.

Ryan suddenly cleared his throat as their laughter died down. "All right, now that we're done reminiscing, let's go."

He started to head out the door, Paul and Neil following him. Damian went after them. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Cotton Club," Ryan said, stopping to look at Damian. "Don't worry, you're coming too. We figured you might want to melt your troubles away to get ready for tonight. Get dressed, get everything ya' need, bring your fake I.D.—"

"I don't have a—"

"Damian."

He looked at them for a moment before moving to open the drawer of his nightstand. "Alright, give me a few minutes."

Neil gave him a thumbs-up as Ryan and George left. "Oh, and by the way, Paul didn't actually tell anyone else except for us. We just wanted to mess with you."

"I hate you all!" Damian yelled after him as Neil snickered and shut his door.

* * *

><p>Lindsay Pearce ran up the steps of the apartment complex as fast as humanly possible, a large plastic clothing bag clutched in her hand. She'd been there so many times before, but never had had this sense of urgency like any of the other times.<p>

When she finally got to apartment 34F, she set down the plastic bag she was carrying and dug around the inside her purse for her spare key. Her fingers fumbled clumsily as she tried to stick it inside the lock, only managing to open the door on her fourth try.

"Cameron?" she called out the second she opened the door. She quickly picked the bag back up and stepped inside the apartment.

The tiny apartment was the same as she remembered it the last time she was there about a week ago, with the average clutter one would expect from a twenty-two-year-old living in L.A. When she got no response she shut the door behind her.

"Cameron?" she called again, stepping cautiously deeper into the apartment. She looked all around the living room, even leaning over to look behind the couch.

She continued talking, letting her voice echo through the living space, "I just went to _Baumer's_ and the owner said you weren't working there anymore. You weren't answering your cell so I called up Macy, and she told me you guys broke up! What happened?"

When there was still no sign of Cameron, she moved to go to the bedroom but stopped when she heard a muffled voice say from kitchen, "Go 'way, 'indsay."

She dropped the bag and quickly walked to the kitchen. She stopped when she saw her friend.

Cameron was sitting on the tiled kitchen floor, still in his tank top and boxers, with scruff already beginning to cover the bottom of his face. A bag of some kind of cheese snack was sitting on his lap. The reason his response to Lindsay rifling through his apartment was muffled was because he was in the middle of chewing a mouthful of them.

He didn't even have his glasses on.

"Oh, Cameron," Lindsay said, her shoulders dropping at the depressing sight of her friend. He looked up at her for a moment before swallowing and staring at a spot on the floor in front of him.

"My life is a mess," he said miserably, "It's just one huge, awful mess."

"How long have you been sitting there?" Lindsay asked.

"It was dark outside last time I checked."

"Alright, stop moping," she said, bending down to throw Cameron's arm over her shoulder and struggling to stand up. After a moment Cameron sighed at her and stood up on his own. Lindsay smiled when she saw this. "I have good news."

"What?" Cameron asked. "Mr. Baum didn't actually fire me? Macy wants me back? The tow truck guys are buying me a brand new scooter—"

"Your scooter got towed?" Lindsay asked.

"If you tell me I should get a car, I _will_ strangle you, Lindsay," Cameron said darkly. She quickly backed up from the subject.

"Look, this is even better. You know that company I'm interning for?" she said, stepping in front of Cameron. "It got me invited to a party up in Beverly Hills! And guess what? You, my friend, are my plus one."

Cameron pulled away from her. "I don't want to go to some fancy-pants party," he said, pouting. He walked over to the living room, Lindsay quickly following after him.

"Come on, Cam! In all the years we've lived in L.A., how many times have we gone to_ the_ Beverly Hills?" she said, trying to convince him. Cameron ignored her and collapsed onto the couch.

She stood in front of him to block the television he was about to turn on. "You might even meet a cute girl there. You know, not for a serious relationship, of course, but as a rebound! She'd be rich too!"

Cameron sighed and looked up at Lindsay. "It's not even about the break-up, Linds. It feels like my life has been going downhill ever since high school ended."

He brought up a hand to run his fingers through his hair. "And it sucks, because isn't this the time where every single decision in our lives are made? Where what we become for the rest of it becomes cemented? Why can't I just be an old man and be done with it already?"

He rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand. "I got fired from a coffee place absolutely _no one_ knew about, the closest romantic relationship I've ever had with a girl just completely crumbled, and now…I was just sitting on the floor in my underwear surrounded by cheese dust."

"We all have our ways of coping with depression," Lindsay said helpfully. Cameron looked up at her. She sighed and went to take a seat next to him on the couch.

"Hey," she said softly, grabbing his arm. He looked over at her reluctantly.

"Remember back in high school, when you first moved here from Texas?" she said, shaking his arm slightly. "The first thing you saw was that group of kids ganging up on me, calling me a bitch and a know-it-all and a bunch of other things. And even though you were the new kid, you decided not to join in. Instead, you pulled me away from them and tried to get me to stop crying."

The corner of Cameron's mouth quirked up as he remembered the day she talked about. Lindsay smiled when she saw this. "You're the most talented guy I know, Cam, and I know better than anyone that just a couple of little setbacks like this isn't going to stop you from achieving your dream."

Cameron slowly looked over at Lindsay and wrapped an arm around her to hug her. "Us losers gotta stick together, right?"

"Opportunity is waiting just around the corner," Lindsay said determinedly, suddenly jumping up from the couch. "And opportunity is waiting in the form of this party, let's go!"

"Hey wait, I never said I was going," Cameron said, looking over at Lindsay as she picked up the plastic clothing bag she had thrown to the ground.

"Oh come on," Lindsay whined, looking at Cameron desperately. "I even rented you a tuxedo already!"

"You rented me a tux?" he asked, getting up from the couch and taking the bag from Lindsay.

She shrugged as Cameron attempted to peek in at it. "My parents decided to send me a little extra money this month. Granted, the tux is a knock-off. I saved the Dior dress for me."

"What's the difference?" Cameron asked, attempting to slide both the suit and the hangar from the bag to get a better look. Lindsay gave him a look, making him decide to drop the question. "Look Lindsay, I still never said I was going to go—"

"I'll buy back your scooter from the towing place."

"I'll go," he said, practically tearing the bag off the suit. Lindsay crossed her arms as she watched him spread the suit out on the couch they were just sitting on. She chewed on her bottom lip as she looked from the suit to Cameron and back again.

She then asked carefully, "Has life…really been that bad for you?"

"I don't know, Lindsay," Cameron sighed, spreading out the suit as best he could. "It definitely hasn't been all the great. It's been sucking more than usual."

Lindsay looked down and nodded in understanding. When she looked back up, Cameron was looking right up at her.

"I'm just waiting for something good to happen."

* * *

><p><strong>End notes:<strong> So when I was saying that I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I was referring to writing depressed!Cameron. I can't even feel bad about it, I just had the funniest mental image of him just moping around. Also; a wild Lindsay appeared! Look, I love Lindsay guys. The actual show has a very mean editor.

As for the Damian part, I don't know. I was kind of playing with the fine line between "comical" and "serious". I'm not sure if I pulled it off, though :/.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes:** (Previous Notes) This…uh…This chapter took me awhile. I have no idea why, for some reason my fingers couldn't make words happen. So yeah. I hope it doesn't show.

* * *

><p>Damian stared at himself in the full-length mirror of his bedroom. It was obvious how much time had been put into the tailoring of his suit; it fit like a glove. Damian looked at himself from all angles to make sure he was wearing everything right.<p>

He heard the clearing of a throat at his doorway. Turning, he saw his mother, all dressed up in a dark red gown, crossing her arms and smiling at him. He turned back towards the mirror.

She stepped in and hugged him from behind, looking him up and down in the mirror. "Well, you certainly look handsome tonight," she said, looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I look nowhere near as beautiful as you," Damian said, turning around and grinning at her. She smacked him on the top of his hand.

"You've grown up to be such a cheese-ball," she said lovingly. Damian's grin slowly settled back into a frown.

"Do I have to go?" he asked sullenly, like a five-year-old asking if he had to be at church on Sunday morning. His mother continued to smile at him, though her eyes got a little sadder.

"I'm afraid you can't hole up in your room tonight, Damian," she said, sliding over to his side and looping her arm through his. "Important people are waiting for you."

Damian gave her a look. "Did dad tell you to say that?"

"He also said, 'Don't be too obvious about it, the boy's too smart for his own good.'"

He looked at his mother despairingly for a moment before slowly smiling at her and leading her out the door and to the staircase. He cherished the moment of peace as he walked down the empty hallway, hearing the conversations underneath them more clearly as they got closer and closer to the marble stairs.

The second they emerged at the top, Damian could hear every conversation stop in the room below. As he led his mother down the steps, he tried to keep his face as emotionless as possible and tried his best not to look out into the crowd. He didn't really have the energy to fake being glad to see every last one of them. Not tonight.

He felt a very slight relief when he got to the bottom of the steps. The kind of relief one feels when they've waded half-way into the lake but they don't want to go any farther because their top half is still freezing cold. Damian was still waiting for his top half to get used to being in this cold lake.

His mother detached from his arm and waved over to a familiar face out in the gaggle of people. When she walked away, Ryan suddenly brushed past him from behind, balancing a plate of hors d'oeuvres on his hand.

"_Here comes the groom_," he sung lowly so only Damian would hear. Damian whipped around to try to get a look at him.

"_All cloaked in gloom,_" Damian heard Neil mutter as he brushed past his side with a tray full of drinks. The two walked out on opposite sides of him and Damian could still clearly hear them humming the rest of the wedding tune. He huffed as they walked away from him.

"Ah, Damian!" He turned around to see his father leading his mother with a wide grin on his face. "Come over here, there's people I want you to meet."

Now obviously Damian knew exactly which people his dad wanted him to meet, however when it came to these "engagements", it didn't do well to show the _exact_ reason why they were thrown in the first place. Everyone in their estate at that moment was looking into the life and times of the McGinty's. It was best not to let others know that the entire point of the party was to simply impress one man and his family. Precautions had to be taken.

Damian nodded at his father with a tight-lipped smile and trailed after him as he led him through the foyer. The walk wasn't that long; the Knight's were simply just standing by the window that was near the front entrance. Damian looked outside it and up at the crescent moon dangling overhead.

"Ike, Emily, I am ecstatic to introduce you to my son, Damian." He quickly snapped out of his reverie and smiled at the large, imposing man with a bad comb-over, the beautiful, buxom blonde woman at his side, a younger man, and a girl around the age of fourteen. Damian stuck out his hand in greeting to the one with the bad comb-over.

Ike Knight didn't look like a generally happy person, and didn't smile back when he went to shake Damian's hand.

However the young Irish man was unflappable, and said to him as they let go, "Our family is a huge fan of your 'work' Mr. Knight."

Mr. Knight only looked him up and down with an expression Damian couldn't quite place and then looked over towards the younger man and girl and jerked his head in Damian's direction. He didn't quite know what to make of this until the young girl bounded up to him with a beaming smile on her face.

"Hello, my name is Olivia," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes up at Damian. She was actually a very pretty girl, petite with dirty blonde hair falling down her back. However, there was no hiding how young she was, and Damian couldn't help but frown when he saw this.

He had thought when his father told him, "They have a daughter around your age," that she'd actually be closer to his age.

"It's a pleasure," the younger man suddenly said, practically bumping his sister out of the way to shake Damian's hand. "I'm Timothy."

Timothy was a very handsome young man, with curly hair the same color as his sister's and about an inch taller than Damian. His teeth were a shining white and his skin was perfectly tanned. He actually looked like someone who would play a lead jock in a bad high school romantic comedy.

"Damian, why don't you show Timothy and Olivia the more off-limits areas of the house?" his father said, looking at him knowingly. Damian grinned at him and turned around.

"Follow me please," he said, looking behind to make sure the two were behind him before heading away from the others. He didn't have to look back to know that they were both already in step with him.

* * *

><p>Cameron sighed as he sat in the passenger's seat of Lindsay's old sputtering station wagon.<p>

"You're going to die one day because of this car, Lindsay," he said to her bluntly as the peeling red car puttered through the streets of Beverly Hills. Glancing out the window, Cameron saw Ferraris and Jaguars parked at the front of the large houses. "No one's going to think we belong there if we stroll in with this dinosaur."

"Would you stop whining?" Lindsay said, looking at him. "And how shallow do you think these people are? They don't look at people based off of how nice they're car is. They look at people just as normal people look at people."

"Normal people look at this car and throw up," Cameron deadpanned, looking over at her. Lindsay rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. It's not like we're going to be in this car the rest of the night," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "And if I do say so myself, we look like quite the power couple, Cam."

He couldn't help but agree with her. Miraculously, the suit itself was actually a really great fit on Cameron; apparently Lindsay had asked Marissa to eye-ball his measurements for her the day before she got it. Also, the dark blue gown Lindsay had picked out made her look absolutely stunning.

"So tell me about the family that's throwing this party?" Cameron asked, cocking his head as he looked over at Lindsay. "I'd kinda like to know what I'm getting into here."

Her eyes lit up as if she had been waiting for him to ask the question for ages.

"They're old-money. Like _super_-old-money. They've been pretty wealthy since they first originated in Ireland a couple generations ago, but the McGinty company had reached it's peak about four years ago. It practically forced them to move to America. Even since then, they've shown no signs of slowing down in their growth," she explained, spitting out the words as if she had rehearsed them an hour before.

"So what are they throwing this party for?" Cameron asked.

"Oh, you know rich people. They're probably throwing it for their dog or something.," Lindsay said dismissively.

"Hypocrite."

"Hey, if I had their money I'd throw a party every time I found the remote in between the seat cushions," she said matter-of-factly. When she finished, their car drove through the open gates and into the front driveway of one of the fanciest houses Cameron had ever seen in his life.

His eyes widened as he looked at it, the outdoor lights and lights from the inside giving it an almost ethereal glow. The cars parking out front and the silhouettes of the people inside gave it a lively, fun appearance.

"Wow," Cameron heard Lindsay breathe beside him, obviously seeing what he saw.

"Yeah," he said, nodding in agreement.

There were a few men waiting outside the estate, knocking on window after window of each car to allow the guests to go inside and park the cars. As he and Lindsay waited behind the rest of the guests, Cameron noticed that there weren't that many cars to park in the first place as most of the guests had been driven in by limousine.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that this party was way out of either his, or Lindsay's, league. To pass the time, Cameron leaned back in his seat to study the estate.

As Cameron stared at it, though, something caught his eye other than the actual building itself. On the side of it, he could see what appeared to be a large garden that spread out to the back of the house. The garden was partially hidden by a thin shrubbery wrapped around iron fencing, but from what Cameron could see, it was completely filled with brightly colored trees and flowers with a cobblestone path winding through it. He sat up straighter in his seat and squinted at it, trying to get a better look.

When the line of cars slowly whittled its way down to him and Lindsay, the girl was practically squealing in excitement. She didn't even notice the valet's disapproving look towards her car when she practically threw her keys at him. Cameron got out from his side of the car and tried to keep up with Lindsay as she made quick strides to the entrance, though he couldn't stop himself from turning his head towards the garden as he did.

The moment they stepped inside the estate, both of them were completely overwhelmed. He and Lindsay were looking down at the shining, tiled floors, up at the glass chandelier hanging from the mirrored ceiling above, and around at all the important people all dressed up in every designer suit, dress, and tie. At the center, straight ahead of them, there was a beautiful marble staircase leading upstairs.

"Wow," Cameron whispered as he and Lindsay awkwardly began to walk around.

"Yeah," Lindsay nodded, completely out of words to say.

However, that was only for about two minutes before she saw something of interest when she turned her head to look into the dining room nearby.

"Oh, they have fancy wine!" she exclaimed and made a bee-line right for it before Cameron could stop her. She quickly disappeared right into the crowd, leaving him there alone.

After standing there awkwardly for a few moments, Cameron stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to walk. No one there seemed to pay him any mind, which he guessed was a good and a bad thing.

Good, because it lowered the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of such a crowd of people. Bad, because Cameron knew that in this house, there had to be at least a hundred opportunities waiting for him, like Lindsay had said. His big break could start right here, at a Beverly Hills party his friend had basically just snuck him into, and nobody was paying any attention to him at all.

In the midst of all his thinking, Cameron failed to look at where he was going and bumped into a man dressed up in a classic black and white tux, making him drop half of an hors d'oeuvre he had been eating.

"Oh man!" Cameron suddenly exclaimed, righting himself and facing towards the man. "I am really sorry!"

"Aw, it's no harm done," the man said, looking down at the dropped food for only a second before looking back up at Cameron. Cameron froze when he heard the indistinguishable waver of an Irish accent. The man didn't seem to notice his surprise as he continued, "It's a party. The floor's not gonna come out clean as a whistle anyways."

"Uh…" Cameron started, trying to think of something to say. The man squinted at him.

"I don't think I know you," he said, offering his hand for Cameron to shake. "Aaron McGinty. Don't mean to sound arrogant, but I would assume you'd have already heard of me."

He stared at Mr. McGinty for a moment before jerking and quickly shaking the offered hand. He was still looking at the Irish man in wonder before said man suddenly cleared his throat.

"And you'd be?" he asked.

"Oh! Oh right!" Cameron stuttered stupidly. "Uh, I'm Cameron Mitchell."

Aaron stared at him for a moment. The younger man said the first thing that came to his head, "I'm a musician."

"Ah!" Mr. McGinty said, now grinning at him. "Up and coming I presume?"

"Who isn't, in L.A.?" Cameron cracked, his voice shaking a little in nervousness. The other man chuckled at this.

"Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mitchell," Mr. McGinty said. "But I have to go—"

All at once a hush suddenly fell over the room. Cameron looked around, wondering what had happened and was about to ask Mr. McGinty only to notice that the man's head was tilted up towards the marble staircase.

Cameron followed his gaze. Descending down from the stairs, he saw a beautiful older woman with her arms hooking with a young man who couldn't have been more than a few years younger than Cameron himself.

The pair of them looked stunning, but Cameron found his eye drawn to the young man. While the woman on his arm was looking out to everyone watching them and smiling and nodding, he was simply keeping his eyes straight ahead at the wall.

Despite how proper and established he looked, his expression felt really cold, like he was trying to hide something. His eyes also seemed just a little bit sad.

It reminded Cameron of the shrubbery gate outside the garden he had seen outside.

Mr. McGinty nudged his arm, making him tear his gaze away from the young man. "My wife and son," he clarified to Cameron. That explained the reason why no one could seem to tear their gaze away from them. Conversation didn't continue until the both of them got to the bottom of the staircase.

He looked over at Mr. McGinty and the older man gave him a slight nod before heading over towards the two.

Cameron bit his lip for a moment before quickly walking towards a brunette-haired butler holding up a tray of full martini glasses. He suddenly felt like he needed a drink.

"Hey," he suddenly said, stopping the butler from leaving and making him look over at Cameron. He paused for a moment. "How do you feel about destiny?"

"If you're trying to hit on me, you have to buy me dinner first," the butler said to him. Cameron raised an eyebrow both at the comment and the fact that he had an Irish accent as well.

"No, no," Cameron said, shaking his free hand. "I mean, does it ever feel like when an opportunity rushes by, it isn't the opportunity you expected, but you feel like going along with it anyway?"

The butler thought about this for a moment. "Well, people's hearts change faster than their heads," he started, his brows scrunching, "If you want to go along with your heart, I'd suggest going with any opportunity. If you want to wait, that's fine too. I suppose it all comes down to what your gut decides in that split-second before you make your decision."

"Huh," Cameron said, swirling his glass for a moment and taking a small sip in thought. "That was actually very insightful."

The butler smiled at him before turning to leave.

"Hey wait."

He turned back to him.

"Is all the help here Irish?" Cameron couldn't stop himself from asking. The butler glowered at him.

"Now sir that is a very racist question," he said, making Cameron begin to regret asking. "…And only about half of them are full-Irish."

With that, the butler just walked away. At that moment Cameron decided to go with his gut. He set down his glass on a nearby window ledge and walked through to a dark side hallway, mostly ignored by the party guests.

He wanted to go see that garden.

* * *

><p><strong>End notes:<strong> HA. I bet you all thought that they were actually going to meet in this chapter! Well joke's on you! (Iamsosorry,Ididn'tmeanthat,lovemeplease.) You know, despite how long I took on this, I actually really like how the end product turned out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes:** (Prev. Notes) Grilled Cheesus Cristo inside a silver toaster, I hate myself. Completely scrap what I said before, _this_ was the hardest chapter to write. Dammit, this was just…painful for me and I have no clue why. And I still don't think it's good enough. but I'm not sure what else I can _do_ with it. Waaahhh. It's also by far the_ longest_ chapter I've written, FML.

Oh well…I hope you guys appreciate it. At least.

* * *

><p>Back straight, nose pointed high, making every movement count, Damian walked straight through the front foyer. That had been where most of the guests had gathered, and after wading through the people, Damian soon found that the large dining room just beyond was the second-fullest room.<p>

"Obviously, this is the dining room," Damian said, smiling over at the two siblings who were still following him. Timothy seemed interested as he looked around hall while Damian noticed that Olivia was only continuing to stare and bat her eyelashes at him.

Damian swallowed uncomfortably when he saw this. "Moving on," he said quickly, intending to continue through to the hallway at the back of the room.

As he sped, he noticed Keith peek out from the kitchen behind the dining room, obviously trying to get a good look at the people he was with. Damian stopped and gave him a look. Keith only gave him a thumbs-up in response.

Before he could make his own motion back, his vision was obscured by a head of long, curly, black hair. A pretty black-haired girl in a blue dress had walked out into his line of vision, surrounded by younger men that Damian only slightly recognized from previous parties. She giggled loudly with a glass of wine in her hand as one of them made a crude comment to her. Damian resisted the urge to roll his eyes and continued on.

The lights in the hallways were low, which was done purposefully so the guests would be put off from going inside them. The ones with the lights completely off were absolutely off-limits.

"There's really not that much down here on the first floor," Damian admitted, folding his hands behind his back. As he passed by door after door, he pointed at each of them. "It's just you know, a guest room, a sitting room, a small library…"

Damian looked over his shoulder and smirked at them. "Now I know you aren't interested in any of those."

"Yeah, we aren't," Olivia said in a low voice, looking Damian up and down. He shifted uncomfortably. Seriously, the girl was fourteen.

Damian cleared his throat and pointed to the end of the hallway. There was a set of black double doors with golden knobs, looking much more grandiose than any of the other doors. "And that, over there, is the main office."

He whipped around to fully face them. "Completely off-limits, I'm 'fraid."

Olivia shrugged. "I have to say, I rather like your home. It's really…quaint," she said, looking around the hallway.

Damian stopped, not quite knowing what to say. Timothy nudged his younger sister. "Olivia, stop being mean."

Olivia glared up at him. "What? I know you were thinking it too!" she said, crossing her arms.

"Well, yeah but I didn't say it out loud," he said to her, rolling his eyes. Olivia scoffed. Despite feeling very insulted then, Damian simply smiled and chuckled.

"I apologize for her," Timothy said, looking at him earnestly.

Damian shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. It shows that she's confident of herself. I find it an admirable trait."

Of course, that was a wide load, but Damian was pleased when he saw Olivia giggle at it.

Timothy looked down at her. "Olivia why don't you go back to mom and dad, the big kids are talking," he said, looking back up at Damian.

Her eyes widened and she looked scandalized. "I'm not gonna just go—"

"Then go get something to drink. Hell, go take a glass of champagne for all I care," he said, making a "shoo"ing motion with his hand. Damian opened his mouth to say something but Olivia had already turned back down the hallway, but not before looking over her shoulder and giving her older sibling a venomous look.

The moment she was out of earshot, Timothy turned to him and said, "I have to say, I'm impressed."

"What?" he asked confused.

"This isn't your thing," Timothy said nonchalantly as if not having heard Damian.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking—"

"I like the way you were able to compliment her despite the fact you were completely talking out of your ass," he continued, shrugging his shoulders.

Damian's jaw dropped and he spluttered, "I-I…What? I wasn't—"

"Oh come on," Timothy said, smirking. "'It's an admirable trait'?" he quoted, then let out a short laugh after.

Damian was too stunned to come up with a response. Timothy shrugged.

"Hey, I get it," he said, reaching out an arm to set on the Damian's shoulder. "Trust me. We're in the same boat. If it makes you feel any better, you sure can sell 'fake' better than I can."

Damian just stared back at him, his mouth still slightly open. Timothy didn't seem to notice as he took his hand off of his shoulder.

"Well, I'd better go find Olivia before she drinks too much champagne. I tell you, every butler that's holding alcohol just can't say no to her. It's crazy," he said. He turned and walked down the hallway just as his sister had.

Damian simply stood there, completely confused and dismayed for the most part.

That had been one of the first times anyone, anyone, had just…called him out. He shut his mouth when he started to feel an uncomfortable churning in his stomach. A wave of numbness completely washed over him as Timothy's words repeated in his head.

He suddenly looked up. 'Screw this party,' he thought to himself, starting his way out of the hallway. 'Screw the Knight's. Screw my father. This stupid suit. Screw every single person in this house.'

He had to go think.

* * *

><p>It honestly didn't take that long for Cameron to find the entrance to the garden. There were only a few dimly lit hallways nearby and he only had to be on the lookout for see-through glass doors.<p>

The moment he stepped outside he was hit with the warm, humid air and the scent of flowers.

Before, he wasn't able to get a good look at the garden itself because of the fence, but the actual garden was far grander than he ever thought it would be. It was filled with clusters of blossoms, nearly every single one a different color. A few large trees dotted the green grass here and there. He only faced one section of the garden, the rest winding around to the back of the estate.

Cameron walked along the cobblestone pathway, staring at all the foliage. He wasn't really much of a flower person, but even an idiot could see someone had taken a lot of time on this entire garden.

'Stupid,' he thought scathingly, turning around for a moment to look back up at the house. 'They probably have an entire team of gardeners tending to this place. I bet half of these plants aren't even real.'

He only thought it just to be bitter, but one sniff in the air made him know at once that that wasn't true at all.

He kept walking through until he got to the shrub fence that outlined the estate. Looking down, he smiled slightly when he saw a low-growing rose bush, already in full bloom. Slowly, he reached out and touched the petals of the one that was the highest, the bloom white at its center but the actual petals outlined in a dark maroon—

_Slam._

Cameron quickly pulled back his hand as if he'd been bit and stuffed it into his pocket at the loud noise.

It hadn't even occurred to him that he could get caught out there. Hundreds of unsettling thoughts filtered through his head, most of them boiling down to the consequences. What if they kicked him out? Lindsay would never be able to forgive him.

Thankfully, when he looked over, he didn't see some kind of giant, hulking hired bouncer or bodyguard. Instead, it was the young Irish man from before, on the staircase.

Cameron's eyes widened at the simple fact he was there in the first place, but it was also because of how the young man looked. On the staircase he had seemed so regal, and proper. A gentleman. Right then, he looked on the verge of hyper-ventilating. His shoulders were hunched the tiniest bit so that he looked smaller and a little child-like.

He didn't notice Cameron at first, but it wasn't as though it made a difference. What was he going to do, hide behind the rose bushes?

And even if hiding or running were even an option, Cameron's entire body seemed to have completely seized up and he could do nothing but stand there. It took a moment before the Irish boy seemed to calm down enough to finally notice that he wasn't alone.

Blue eyes slowly looked up from the ground and locked onto Cameron's darker ones. He watched as the other's expression turned from disappointment and dismay to confusion to realization to confusion again like some kind of whacked-out traffic light.

"Who are you?" he finally asked, straightening up and staring at Cameron. The slightly taller man stared dumbly back, his brain seeming to have frozen.

When he didn't say anything, the young man rolled his eyes walked up to him.

"Well?" he said, leaning towards him. Whoa wait, when did he get so close? Also, his eyes are really blue. And Cameron, could you please stop being stupid and say something already—

"I'm a musician," Cameron suddenly blurted without realizing it. The other boy blinked, not sure how to respond.

"Uh!" Cameron croaked when he realized what he just said. "I mean, it's just, I'm not exactly official yet—"

McGinty scoffed at this. "Clearly," he muttered, smiling to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cameron asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Oh, I mean no offense!" the other boy quickly amended. "It's just, you know, you can't be all that well-known. You're kinda wearing a knock-off tuxedo without a pocket square."

"It's that noticeable?" Cameron said out loud, picking at the collar of his suit and inspecting it. When he looked back, the McGinty boy sighed heavily, covering his eyes. The vulnerability Cameron had seen from before quickly returned.

"Hey," he said, walking closer to the younger man. "Shouldn't you—?"

"Shouldn't I what?" he suddenly yelled, snapping his hand down from his face. "Shouldn't I be inside, mingling around with the rich and beautiful? Shouldn't I be eating fancy finger foods with French names no one can pronounce? Or maybe lying to someone's face about how great my dad's company is, when in reality I could care less? What do you think I should be doing?"

Cameron stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. McGinty stared back before repeating, softer this time and sounding more like a question, "What should I be doing?"

"Uhm, no," he said, hesitantly to him after another moment of silence. "I was going to say, 'Shouldn't you sit down, you look a little tired?'"

The boy looked at him, stunned and confused. Cameron gently took his wrist and guided them both down onto the cobblestone pathway.

"Oh," the Irishman finally said when they were both sitting down. "I…see."

Cameron couldn't help but smile at how dumbfounded the boy was.

"Uh, my name's Cameron. Cameron Mitchell," he said, sticking his hand out to him. McGinty smiled at him and shook it.

"Mine's Damian. Damian—"

"McGinty," Cameron said automatically, finishing his sentence. Damian tilted his head in confusion.

"Have we met before?" he asked attentively.

"Oh! No, I just uh, just saw you walk down the staircase with your mom," Cameron explained, gesturing vaguely back towards the house. Damian arched an eyebrow. "Your dad kinda…introduced me? I guess? We talked a little bit."

"What'd he say about me?" Damian asked suddenly, his expression suddenly urgent. He also shifted from his cross-legged position onto his knees. "How did I look? Did he say anything about that? Was I walking alright?"

Cameron leaned back a little bit at Damian's sudden enthusiasm. "Um," he started, rolling up his eyes to look like he was trying to remember. "He…said you looked great. And I agreed with him. He looked really proud."

Damian looked down and grinned toward the ground. Cameron smiled at this and looked down as well.

"He didn't say that," he said quietly.

He looked back up at Damian in surprise. "What?"

"He'd never say that," he said matter-of-factly, meeting Cameron's eyes. Despite his words, Damian was still beaming at him. Cameron bit his lip, feeling a slight pang in his body.

"Though…" Damian started, looking up towards the sky and leaning back. "It's…really nice of you to lie to me like that."

Cameron didn't say anything for a moment, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"You're welcome?" he finally said, unsurely. Damian laughed, which gave Cameron permission to laugh as well. "I guess I'll try to lie to you every chance I get, then."

For moment, they sat in silence, though for some reason that Cameron couldn't place, it wasn't awkward. He then decided to ask Damian, "So…you live here, right? It's really amazing."

The statement seemed to make Damian unsure of himself, and he shifted a little. "Yeah, I guess," he said dismissively.

"'You guess'?" Cameron repeated incredulously, looking at Damian. "I can't believe people can even live in places like this! I mean, I could've stood right outside your gates and just have admired your driveway all night."

Damian looked over at him, slightly bewildered. "You really aren't from around here, are you?" he said.

Cameron huffed. "Says the guy with the Irish accent," he retaliated, making Damian laugh again.

"So, since I know for a fact you don't live near here and most likely have to work for a living," the Irish boy started, "What do you do?"

Cameron chewed the inside of his cheek and squinted up at the sky.

"Lately? …"

He's not sure how, but he ended up telling Damian everything that had been going on in his life at the moment. He started by telling him about his old job, and Mr. Baum, and the coffeehouse, and how he got fired. One thing led to another and suddenly Damian was telling Cameron about Paul, George, Keith, Neil, and Ryan, guys who had helped him through a lot over the past few years since he moved to America.

Cameron asked him about his hometown and that got Damian to describing everything about Derry. Or, the most magical parts about it, at least. All he seemed to be able to talk about were the fields and the skies and the absolutely amazing people that lived there. Cameron countered by telling him stories about high school and how he was even still friends with some of his graduating class.

He even ended up telling him about Macy, going so far as to describe the break-up to him.

"Ouch," Damian said after Cameron was done. "I take it life hasn't exactly been peaches, has it?"

"That's one way to say it," he said, shrugging. He looked over at Damian. "But what about you? Why are you outside talking to a lame guy like me? Shouldn't you be inside eating, I don't know, caviar, or something?"

Damian wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Ugh, I hate caviar. It's disgusting."

"Remind me never to try it then."

_Beep beep._

Cameron started when he heard the noise and felt the vibration in his pocket. Pulling it out, he realized that it was a text from Lindsay.

_-Where r u? Im out front._

Closing out of the message, his eyes widened when he saw the time at the corner of the screen. "Oh wow, it got late," he said, getting up and giving Damian a hand to help him up as well. Damian leaned over to look at his phone.

"Wow," he repeated, just as surprised. Cameron sighed and closed his phone.

"Listen, I got to go. My friend's waiting for me outside."

"You can just go out through the gate here," Damian said, motioning towards it at the side. He started walking towards it, implying to Cameron that he should follow. "It'll be quicker."

Cameron waited behind him as he unlocked and opened it. As Damian held it open, Cameron nodded towards him gratefully.

"Thanks," he said, grinning, starting to head out.

"You know what?" he suddenly added, whipping back around to face Damian. "You're alright. For a snobby rich kid."

Damian crossed his arms and half-smiled at him. "And I suppose you're fine too. For a poor man."

"Oh now that's kinda stretching it!" Cameron said, pouting. He smiled and gave Damian a slight wave, turning to leave again.

"Wait. Cameron." He looked back over his shoulder to see Damian shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as he leaned against the fence.

"Do you think," he started off awkwardly. "Maybe, if, you know, you ever have time…Can we hang out?"

Cameron looked at him for a moment. He quickly pulled out his phone and handed it to Damian. "Put your number in," he instructed, "And give me yours so I can put in mine."

Damian looked up at Cameron as if he was surprised he even responded. Nevertheless he happily pulled his own cell phone out of his pants pocket and gave it to him as he took Cameron's phone. When they were finished punching in their numbers, Cameron waved to Damian again.

"I'll see you around," he said, turning and finally walking away from the garden. He shut his eyes for a moment and smiled to himself. He wasn't sure why, but he felt really happy. Happier than he had been in weeks, even.

He was still smiling like an idiot even as he walked out from the side of the house and saw a fuming Lindsay sitting on the front curb waiting for him.

"You!" she practically hissed, quickly standing up. "Where the hell have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere! Every single guy in that place was a total douche."

"Someone's happy," Cameron said off-handedly.

As the station wagon pulled up, Lindsay gave him a look. "Cameron, rich boys getting drunk is a hundred times worse than frat boys. _Never_ again."

A tall man with a defined jaw and chin opened the door of the car and walked around to them. As he handed Lindsay the keys, he said quietly to the two of them, "Might I suggest getting your shocks inspected? They sound a little bit off. Or maybe just scrap the entire car altogether—"

"Don't tell me what do," Lindsay snapped, snatching the keys from his hands and walking around to the driver's side.

The valet's eyebrows shot up for a moment. Looking over at Cameron, he commented, "She's quite the feisty one, ain't she?"

"Nah, just a lot of memories in that car," Cameron said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking up onto the balls of his feet. "Like that squirrel indent on the front bumper. She can't bring herself to throw that away."

He paused for a moment before deciding on a whim to look back towards the garden gate. Surprisingly, he could still see Damian in the distance, leaning against the still-opened gate. Cameron waved over and smiled when he saw Damian make an over-exaggerated wave back.

"Cameron!" Lindsay practically shrieked from the driver's seat, making him jump in surprise.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he reassured her, nodding towards the valet and walking to the car door. He didn't notice the valet's confused expression towards him as he looked over to where Cameron had just been staring.

As Lindsay angrily shoved the car into "Drive", Cameron couldn't help but look back at the garden entrance as they drove by it. Damian wasn't there anymore, and the gate was shut again. He couldn't explain the sudden loneliness he felt as they drove away.

* * *

><p><strong>End notes:<strong> *bleeeuggghhh* *ded* *btw I love you guys sooo much. You srsly have no idea. You're the reason I bothered even posting this up.* *back to dedness*


	7. Chapter 7

During breakfast the next morning, Damian texted away underneath the table. He was almost absolutely certain neither of his parents would care if he texted above the table in plain sight, but for some reason, he didn't want to. He had actually woken up to see a message from Cameron already on his phone. It had been sent the night before.

_-hey, u up?_

He smiled to himself as he texted back,

_-Sorry I didnt get your message last night. Was exhausted._

The response was almost immediate.

_-lol was talkin to me that boring?_

It was last night all over again. The conversation flowed naturally between them, even over landlines.

And right now, as Damian sipped his orange juice, he kept making discreet glances at his phone like an elementary school kid with a note passed to him. At the moment, he just wanted to keep Cameron a secret to himself. The reasoning was beyond him, but for some reason, Damian felt like he had stumbled across something special. He didn't want anyone else to know about it. Not yet, at least.

Damian suddenly looked up from his phone when he heard his mother lightly set down her fork and spoon on her plate. Quickly stuffing his phone into his pajama pocket, Damian grinned and started picking up the plates, "I'll get that." Luckily, his father didn't even set down his paper and he was able to rush into the kitchen. It was a good morning, wasn't it?

"Mornin' Keith!" Damian said to the young cook, setting the plates down beside the sink and turning on the water. Keith, meanwhile, had been restocking the spices in the cupboards. At Damian's chipper tone, the cook jumped and dropped a plastic container full of pepper, having it clatter to the floor but thankfully not spilling any of its contents.

Keith turned to look at Damian. "Geez, don't scare me like that! Give a man a warning!"

"Sorry," Damian said, though it didn't sound that remorseful. He went to grab the pepper and put it back in the cupboard. "But still, good mornin'."

Keith gave him a confused look that he didn't notice. "Uh, g'morning to you too then."

Undeterred, Damian went back to the dishes, still emitting a glow of happiness the cook wasn't used to seeing. Keith kept looking at him, trying to work things out in his head as he grabbed the silver ladle he had left on the counter and began wiping with a dishrag.

After just a few minutes of the two of them simply cleaning the kitchen supplies, Damian suddenly dropped the plates. He looked up and took a deep inhale through his nose as if sniffing the morning air (which didn't make sense since he was indoors).

He exhaled and looked over at Keith with a smile. "The food you made this morning was great Kei—"

The cook banged the ladle he was cleaning into the tiled counter with a loud crash, making Damian jump in surprise. "Okay! What is going on with you today?" Keith demanded, setting down the ladle and turning to face Damian with his hands on his hips.

"I…have no idea what you're talking about?" Damian said, looking honestly confused.

"You're-You're…" Keith stuttered, gesturing emphatically towards him. Damian simply blinked his eyes at him. "You're happy."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Thank you?" he said unsurely.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant…" Keith said, bringing a hand up to his chin and shaking his head. "It's just, weird. Only the guys and I are allowed to make you smile like that."

"Like what?" Damian asked, still confused.

"Like, y'know, that," Keith said, spinning his hand vaguely. Damian chuckled at this.

"Yeah, sure, I totally smile like," he imitated the gesture amusedly. "That." He turned back to the sink to continue cleaning the dishes, squirting a little bit of soap over them. Keith sighed, sensing the losing battle, and was about to turn back to the cupboards—

_Ping._

Damian's hands were out of the water in a flash, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. Keith stared as the younger man looked down at the screen for a moment before laughing and tapping out a reply of his own. He put it in his pocket again and went right back to work.

"Unnatural," he said out loud, looking at Damian as the pieces started to fit together in his head.

"Still have absolutely no clue what you're going on about," Damian called over his shoulder in a singsong voice as he scrubbed at the dishes. The moment the phone pinged again, the cycle started all over again.

* * *

><p>Cameron took a deep breath as he finished his breakfast. Beep beep. He smiled as he watched the screen of his phone light up and vibrate on the table in front of him. He'd been texting Damian all morning. It was actually pretty weird. There was never a friendship before the Irishman that he could remember being so easy.<p>

Despite being a little disappointed he hadn't met some hotshot music producer at Damian's estate as he had originally imagined, Cameron couldn't bring himself to say that he regretted going out to the garden that night.

_-so hows your breakfast? eatin roasted duck with some seal skin on the side? ;)_ Cameron typed back, immediately hitting "Send" right after.

_Beep beep._

_-Lol. Not even close. More like turkey bacon and oatmeal._

…

_-oatmeal made out of seals?_

Cameron got up from the table and grabbed the shirt he had draped over the couch. Despite last night having calmed his psyche a bit, it didn't change reality. He still had a lot to do, otherwise he'd be going hungry for the next couple of days. As he slipped on the shirt over his tank top, his phone beeped again.

_-:P_

Cameron smiled and wasted no time on his reply.

_-haha. srry, but i gotta go. job hunting today. Another beep._

_-That's good news! What are you planning on looking for?_

He rolled his eyes as he grabbed his house keys and placed his hand on the door knob.

_-at this point? anything._ Cameron tucked the phone into his back pocket and turned the door handle—

"Good morning to you Cameron!"

—and was surprised to see Lindsay walk right through the doorway, making him hold it open for her without thinking. He looked at her for a moment before deciding to simply just shake his head and shut the door.

He faced her, "You know you can't just come barging in here whenever you want to."

She didn't seem to hear him as she said absently, "My, what a lovely morning this is today? Don't you think, Cam?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, ignore everything I say. You can't stay in here anyways, I was just about to leave—"

"To go do what?" Lindsay asked, looking at him with shining, excited eyes that made Cameron a little scared to answer.

"To…go look for a job—?"

"Errnnk!" Lindsay interrupted him, mimicking a game show buzzer when a contestant is wrong. Cameron leaned back at the sound effect. "You don't have to look for a job, my dear Cameron Mitchell, if you already have one!"

"I—what?" Cameron said, completely confused. Lindsay crossed her arms and grinned at him.

"Weelll," she started, stretching out the word. "Let's just say that party last night wasn't a complete waste of time. Congrats, Cameron, you got yourself a new job."

"What? You're kidding!" Cameron yelled, walking closer to Lindsay with an enormous smile on his face. "So fast? How did you manage to do that?"

"Remember when I told you drunken rich boys are worse than drunken frat boys?" Lindsay said, inspecting her fingernails. "While that might be the case, rich boys have so much more influence. After young Mr. Pincher had one too many glasses of champagne, I convinced him to convince his daddy to give you a job at one of his company's branches. And even more good news; you still get to play guitar."

"That's unbelievable!" Cameron said, still smiling like an idiot. "Oh my God, I could kiss you right now Lindsay!"

Apparently saying it wasn't enough, so Cameron grabbed Lindsay's face and planted one right on her cheek, shocking her for a quick moment. Lindsay laughed as she wiped off her face.

"Well, don't start thanking me just yet," she said, making Cameron stop himself from happy-dancing all around his apartment. "I uh, came over so I could drive you over to your new job. Since, you know, you don't exactly know the way to it yet, and you don't even know what company Pincher works for—"

"Does it look like I care?" Cameron asked, still ecstatic. "Oh man, the fact you even got me a job is already amazing! I swear Linds, there is absolutely no way anything could ruin—"

About twenty-five minutes later, Cameron's tune had completely changed from rock anthem to lullaby. In more ways than one.

"You're kidding me," Cameron said flatly as Lindsay stood smiling next to him. She looked up at him, her grin never faltering. He looked down at her. "You're kidding me."

"What happened to, 'you're so amazing Lindsay' and 'you're the greatest friend anybody could ever ask for'?" Lindsay asked, saying it as if she didn't see anything wrong with the situation.

Cameron stared at her for a moment before slowly looking out into his new "venue".

The floor they were currently standing on was carpet, with a design of brightly colored blobs and swirls against a black background. That carpet covered the majority of the place and circled around a hardwood floor area at the center, a few feet lower than the carpeted area with various sections of stairs that connected them. The hardwood floor held tables of varying sizes that faced a medium-sized stage with red curtains.

Now this was all well and good for Cameron. As a matter of fact, he probably should've been happy; that stage would've been the largest he'd ever sung on in his short "career".

However, despite the size of the stage, Cameron never imagined himself singing in a place with a playhouse at the side right next to a row of ski ball machines. The scent of pizza floated through from the food order counter near the front. Kids were running around everywhere, some wielding Nerf guns, others clutching balloon strings in their hands. There was even a ball pit running along one side of the house.

Cameron looked back at Lindsay who was still staring at him with a stupidly proud expression. He stared at her.

"I'm outta here," he finally said, turning around to head for the entrance.

"Wait, wait!" Lindsay immediately called after him, running in front of him so she could hold him in place.

"C'mon, Cameron!" she said desperately, looking up at him.

"Lindsay, look at this place!" Cameron said, gesturing widely. "Look over there; that kid just threw up and that other one is finger-painting with it!"

Lindsay looked over to where he was pointing and cocked her head. "Actually, I think that that kid was finger-painting and the other one just ate it."

He ignored her. "I can't do this," he said to her.

Lindsay sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Cameron, what are your other options?"

As much as Cameron hated to admit it, she had a point. Despite having planned on looking for jobs that day, even he knew there was no way he'd find one in one week, much less in one day. And the odds were even slimmer he'd find a job in performing.

"Dammit," Cameron muttered, sighing. Lindsay's smile returned when she saw this. She grabbed his wrist and started to lead him back into the building.

"Awesome! Now come on. The owner told me you'd have to be fitted into your costume."

"Wait, costume?"

* * *

><p><strong>End notes:<strong> I would like to thank my awesome new beta, Corey, for looking over this chapter for me :). Not much else to say, really.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes:** (Previous Notes) Woo! So, this chapter was easy for me to write. However, the _next_ chapter kicked my ass because it's another long one. This took so long because I like writing at least one chapter ahead (Am I weird like that? Whatever, I'm weird in a lot of ways).

And in addition to long chapters kicking me in the ass, _school_ will now be kicking my ass a little over twenty-four hours from now. Yayyy. Only. Not reallllyyyy…Yay.

* * *

><p>Damian let out an "oomph" as he was shoved down onto his bed.<p>

No more than five minutes ago, Ryan had grabbed him from the hallway completely out of nowhere and practically dragged him into his room. Keith, George, Paul, and Neil were already waiting there as well and all of them had grabbed him and threw him down into a sitting position, Damian's loud protests going completely unheard.

"What are you doing?" Damian finally yelled at them, not appreciating the feeling of being kidnapped in his own home.

"What's his name, Damian?" George said simply, crossing his arms and looking down at him.

"Who? What are you goin' on about?" Damian said to them, getting more annoyed by the second.

"You've been smilin' ever since the party last night!" Keith said exasperatedly.

"We've all noticed. People on the moon could probably see that goofy look you've been sportin'," Neil said, getting nods of agreement from the others.

"What are you—," Damian stopped himself as something clicked in his head. Oh no.

They knew.

Had he really been smiling so much? Damian discreetly brought a hand up to touch one of his cheeks. He had thought it was just because he was having a good day. Was it really all because of Cameron?

He brought the hand down and sighed. So much for keeping it a secret.

All four of the men above him crossed their arms, giving him a look at his sudden silence. Damian's eyes looked around the room for a moment before slowly looking up, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"…the Knights gave me marijuana," he quickly said, shrugging. "That's why I've been so happy all of a sudden."

"Damian!" George yelled, now completely irked.

"Alright! Alright!" Damian said, smacking the comforter beside him.

"Look, I met him last night at the party. He was one of the guests, I guess."

"Oooohhh," Neil said, smirking.

"No, not 'oooohhh'," Damian said defensively. "We're just friends. Barely friends even. Like I said, I met him last night—,"

"So it was a one night stand, I take it?" Paul asked. Damian flushed hotly and stood up.

"No! No, it was not!" he said quickly, his face growing red. He quickly took a breath to calm himself down as the other five men started laughing. "Look, can all of you just shut up about it? It's none of your business any—,"

"Oh, now that is where you are wrong, my friend," Keith said, grabbing Damian's shoulder and pushing him back into a sitting position. He took the open spot next to him and looked at him earnestly. Damian turned as Keith continued to stare at him.

There was a moment of awkward silence as he waited for Keith to say something.

"Grab his phone," the man said suddenly and Damian felt a hand in his pocket.

He snapped his head towards them and attempted to lunge for his phone. "Hey, give that back! That's private!"

Ryan, who was the one who had grabbed the phone, calmly backed away from Damian's swiping hand and handed it over to George who turned and began to look through it. The other three grabbed Damian by the arms and held him down on the bed, which was quickly becoming a recurring theme.

"Lessee here…" George muttered as he scrolled through Damian's phone. "'Great party last night', 'Sorry we couldn't enjoy it that much', 'winky face'…"

"'Winky face'?" Paul repeated, looking down at Damian. "You two are sendin' winky faces to each other?"

"Oh, looks like it's serious," Ryan teased.

Damian attempted to grab for the phone again but was, again, quickly pushed back down.

"Why aren't you telling us about him?" George asked, closing the phone and looking down at him, a hand on his hip.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's none of your business!" Damian said, looking at them.

"Oh, it is all of our business," Neil said, backing off and crossing his arms. The young Irish man huffed in frustration at his privacy being threatened and turned away from the men like a sullen child.

How could they just invade his personal privacy like that? It wasn't as though what he kept from them was that big of a deal anyways…

"We just don't want you to get hurt."

Damian suddenly looked up at Paul, who was looking at him worriedly. It took him a moment to notice that all of them were looking at him in the exact same way.

"…What?"

"Look, you've been through some tough times," Keith said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "And we're not about to let some guy make a gravel road bumpier, y'know what I mean?"

"Come on," Ryan continued. "You know us, Damian. We're yer brothers, basically. We have to protect you from dangers. And that includes heartbreak, relationships, or anything having to do with you being intimate with another human being."

Damian stared at him before automatically looking over at Paul, like he was waiting for some kind of reaffirmation. Paul simply shrugged and said, "It's part of the job description."

"I…" the younger man started, his sentence trailing off. "…don't know what to say,"

He was literally lost for words. The guys smiled at each other secretively when they saw this.

"He's straight," Damian suddenly said, looking up. "He told me he just broke up with his girlfriend."

The guys all sat down at different areas on the bed, all of them talking at once.

"Now don't lose hope—,"

"It's L.A.! People are open-minded—,"

"Are you sure he's not bisexual—?"

"You can be a rebound! Most guys get really confused after break-ups—,"

Damian scooted back in surprise at the sudden flood of questions. "I am getting seriously mixed signals from you guys right now," he said quickly.

_Ping._

"Oh hey, he sent you another text," George commented absently, looking down at the phone that was still in his hand. Damian immediately launched himself across the mattress and successfully grabbed the phone from George's hands, ending up lying flat on his stomach. His goofy smile suddenly returned when he read the new message.

"Ah-hem."

Damian looked up at the guys, who were looking down at him expectantly. He sighed and he read from the phone, "Got a gig this weekend. Really need support. Are you there?"

There was a beat of silence.

"…Are you?" Paul asked.

"Am I?" Damian repeated, looking at them with a raised eyebrow. The guys looked at each other.

"We'll cover for you," Neil said, grinning and nodding at Damian. His face broke out into a huge smile, his eyes completely crinkling up.

"Aw, look at you, you're like Cinderella!" Ryan commented with a trickster grin, suddenly moving to pinch his cheek.

"Nah, he's more like Jasmine," Paul said, ruffling his hair.

"Wait, so, are we his pet tigers or his fairy godmothers?"

"I like the sound of being a godmother. Something I've always wanted in my life!"

"I hate you all."

* * *

><p>This was awful. This was so bad.<p>

And horrible. And sucky.

And awful.

It was Saturday, at seven forty-five. He'd already seen the costume several times, but this was honestly the first time he'd worn it with all the "pieces" put together. Cameron stared at himself backstage in the full-length mirror. Thirty minutes to go before his first show.

'Someone kill me,' he thought as he stared at himself in slight horror. 'This is the worst thing I've ever had to do in my entire life.'

"What's up, Cameron?" He turned around at the voice and glared as his self-appointed "agent" walked into the room.

Lindsay stopped herself when she saw him. There was a moment of silence where Cameron simply stood there as she looked at him up and down with wide eyes.

And then she started laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh my God!" she squealed, pointing at his outfit. "That's what the costume is? Ha ha ha! I mean—I'm sorry! I didn't mean to lau—"

She cut herself off to clutch at her sides and to take in more air.

"It's not funny!" Cameron yelled, marching up to her. Or tried to, at least. The flippers limited his movement quite a bit and made him trip a little bit.

"Yes, it is!" Lindsay cried, already near tears. "Look at you! Oh man, this is just—I'm gonna pee myself!"

Cameron huffed and crossed his arms as she went into another fit of laughter. It took a moment for her to come back but she was able to compose herself enough to clap a hand on his shoulder.

"Ya ready to knock 'em dead out there?" she asked, the remains of her laughing still etched onto her face. Despite that, Cameron couldn't help but smile slightly in response.

"You know, Linds, you really didn't have to come," he said, turning towards her.

"What are you talking about?" she said, smacking him lightly. "Of course I'm gonna come. I came to your first show when you started working at Baumer's. I went to every talent show back in high school when I heard you were singing—"

"That's because you were usually in the show too," Cameron interrupted flatly.

"The point is," Lindsay continued. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. And that's not because of the ridiculously stupid costume. Though, if I'd known you were wearing that beforehand, then I wouldn't have missed it for the entire universe."

"No, I mean, you really didn't have to come," Cameron said, deciding to ignore her last statement. He scratched the back of his head (or he tried best he could, but the gloves made it hard to). He looked at himself in the mirror a second time. "I honestly do not want anyone to see me like this."

The smile on Lindsay's face hardened.

"Huh?" she said, still smiling. "Why, uh…why not?"

"Are you kidding me?" Cameron said. "You can see what I look like right now. It'd be horrible if people I knew were out there in the crowd, just laughing at me. At least you have some decency to hold it in for a little while."

He looked away from the mirror at Lindsay. The smile on her face was completely gone and she was looking down at the ground in pure shock.

"Lindsay?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together. "What's up with your face?"

"What's up with your face?" she suddenly snapped as she looked up. Cameron jumped at her sudden outburst and really looked at her. Her expression was a mixture of horror and fear.

"Lindsay…" he started apprehensively. "What did you do?"

She squeezed her fingertips together and bit her lip. Cameron waited patiently as she slowly looked up sheepishly.

"…I may or may not have invited everyone from your contacts list to your first show."

What happened next was inevitable.

"You did what?" Children standing outside of the "Staff-only" door scrambled at the angry yell.

"Now, Cam, let's just calm down for a second," Lindsay said, opening her hands in front of her as her friend angrily paced around the room. However, this was about as effective as opening up an umbrella during a tsunami.

"Calm down? Calm down? This was the absolute last thing I wanted to happen! How could you—"

"I thought you would need the support!" Lindsay tried to defend herself before he could finish his accusation. Cameron whipped around to face her. "It was supposed to be a surprise! So…surprise?"

"I can't go out there with them watching!"

"Look, not even everyone showed up! In fact, only our regular group was able to get out of work for tonight," Cameron began pacing again and Lindsay began following him.

"The only people out there are, uh, let me think, Marissa, Sam, Hannah, Ellis, and Bryce," Lindsay listed, counting on her fingers.

"You're sure? That's it?" Cameron asked, stopping and looking at her. Lindsay nodded.

"Oh, and one other guy that you've been texting a lot. Darren? Daniel? I think he said he was coming too, but I didn't see him out there—,"

"Damian?" Cameron cut in incredulously, his eyes widening. "You invited him?"

"It was a mass text and after looking through your guys' conversations, I thought you two were close!" she said, quickly, scared at his returning anger.

"W-well we aren't!" he said, looking away. "I mean, at least, I think we aren't. But, wait a sec. He said he was coming?"

Lindsay crossed her arms and shrugged. "Yeah, he asked for the time and address and everything. He seemed really excited."

Cameron was silent and looked towards the ground. Lindsay took that as her cue to escape and began awkwardly backing out of the room.

"Wait," he suddenly said. She stopped. "How did you get my phone in the first place?"

"If I told you, I wouldn't be able to take it anymore," she said cheekily and slipped out the door, leaving Cameron alone in the room. He sighed heavily and looked at himself in the mirror. He frowned and walked right in front of it to look himself in the eyes.

"I despise you."

* * *

><p><strong>End notes:<strong> The vagueness of Cam's costume was intentional. No worries, you'll get to…er, "see" what he's wearing next chapter (Only if, y'know, you still want to stick around. Of course.).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes:** I survived my first week of school everybody! Free virtual alcoholic drinks through the computer screen on me!

So then, I hope you guys are in the mood for another long chapter! And from the way things are going, it looks like chapter ten will be another long one too…Uh…yay? I guess?

Oh! And to xxBlaineXKurtxx, I should give you a cupcake for guessing on Cam's costume. You weren't right, but the mental image you gave me made me giggle. So uh…*virtual cupcake'd!*

* * *

><p>"Are you…sure this is the place?" Paul asked as he parked the limo and rolled down the windows. They had parked in front of a large building with a big, fun-looking sign that read, "Pincher's Funderland". Damian raised an eyebrow and looked down at his phone.<p>

"It…says this is the right address," Damian said, opening his door and stepping outside. Paul knitted his eyebrows together and looked from Damian to the "funderland".

"Well, have fun having a unicorn tattooed onto your face by a clown then," he said finally, shaking his head and smiling in response to Damian's glare through the window. The window rolled up and the car started up, Damian watching as it drove away.

Turning around, he sighed and walked up to the entrance of the building. The moment he stepped through the doors, Damian's confusion only grew as he was hit with loud, happy, wordless music from large speakers and the sight of kids running around everywhere. There were arcade games, air hockey machines; he had even spotted a ball pit out of the corner of his eye.

Damian, feeling self-conscious, walked to the ticket window at the far side of the entrance hallway. Being in a place like this made him feel a little bit…stupid.

"Hello there sir, welcome to Pincher's Funderland!" the bright, cheery woman said through the glass. Damian forced out a smile back.

"Are you here with a child?" she asked, still smiling. Damian cleared his throat and leaned forward to the speaker circle.

"Actually, I'm here to watch Cameron Mitchell's show?" he said awkwardly, fidgeting slightly at the thought of getting the address completely wrong and having just made a complete fool out of himself. The woman's smile dropped and she stared at him for a moment before suddenly laughing in realization.

"Oh! You must be with the Pearce party!" she said, smiling at Damian good-naturedly. Despite being relieved that she seemed to have understood the reason he was there, Damian was only more confused. Pearce?

"They're sitting right up front there, sweetie," she said, leaning forward and pointing as best she could behind the window. "I'm almost sure you can't miss them."

"Okay, thank you," Damian said, nodding and grinning to her gratefully before starting to walk away.

"Sir, wait!" Damian turned back around. The woman motioned towards the opening at the bottom of the window, the smile still plastered on her face. "I need to stamp your hand so you can come back inside when you leave!"

He gave her a look before slowly walking back to stick his hand underneath the window.

With a freshly-stamped hand, Damian slowly walked to the steps that lead down to the dining/viewing area and looked out at all of the tables. Most of them were occupied by groups of parents who were watching their kids from the distance.

The window girl wasn't wrong, however. The "Pearce party" was not hard to miss.

Even from his spot in the distance, Damian could see a small group of younger adults, looking much too young to have kids, sitting at the table right in front of the stage. They were probably there so they could have the best seats for the show.

Damian took a deep breath to pace himself and walked resolutely towards the table. It made him nervous, and while he told himself he had no idea why it did, Damian already knew exactly why.

This entire situation was completely out of his league. He was used to hanging around older people, people of social classes similar to his own. Before Cameron, Damian could barely remember the last decent, friendly conversation he'd had with a person near his age.

Damian stopped at the edge of the table, the four people still chatting away with no notice of him. The walk suddenly felt a lot shorter than it should've been in his mind.

"Uhm, excuse me?" he asked, trying to say it loud enough to be heard over the other conversations and music and the children screaming around them. Fortunately, he didn't have to repeat himself as a larger, red-haired girl immediately took notice of him and got the others' attention.

"I'm here to watch Cameron," he said, giving a small wave to them and smiling as best he could despite how out-of-place he felt. "You're…his friends, right?"

The group didn't respond, simply continuing to stare at him expressionlessly. Damian felt something drop in his stomach as he began thinking he'd made the worst mistake ever by coming there.

He fidgeted uncomfortably and couldn't stop himself from letting his eyes drop to the ground to avoid their stares.

And then suddenly he heard a girl burst out into peals of joyous laughter.

"Jesus, Hannah!" he heard a guy's voice say.

"You ruined it!" he heard another girl chip in. Damian looked up, confused, to see the two guys and an auburn-haired girl mock-glaring at the redhead. They weren't actually mad, though, because Damian could see the corners of their mouths twitching.

"I'm sor—I am so sorry!" the redhead wheezed out, still laughing hysterically. She gestured towards Damian. "But come on! Did you see his face? It broke my heart!"

Damian smiled a little bit at the sudden change of mood at the table. The girl who had been laughing calmed herself and stood up from the seat, walking closer and extending a hand to Damian.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Hannah."

He gratefully took it and smiled back at her. "Damian."

"Oh, hey, take the seat next to me!" she said, quickly using the handshake to grab Damian's hand and lead him over to an empty seat between her and a man with long dreadlocks.

"Hey, I'm Samuel," he said, immediately clapping Damian's hand into a handshake.

"Marissa," the auburn-haired girl cut in, reaching over Sam to steal his handshake.

The remaining guy in the blue knit beanie waved at him from across and a little bit to the left of him at the table. "What's up, I'm Bryce. And I think Ellis went over to the bathroom."

Damian grinned at all of them. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you."

"How do you know Cam?" Hannah asked, taking a sip from the straw in the paper cup in front of her.

"We met at a party," Damian said, shrugging.

"That's cool of you to come to a gig of his if you just met," Samuel said, nodding in appreciation.

"He's just a really cool guy," he replied. "I wanted to hang out with him again. Though, I did expect it to be somewhere less…Does he usually play in places like this? I mean, he told me he was a musician and all but I didn't…"

Marissa chuckled and leaned forward on the table. "As much as I'd love to tell you Cameron plays at Chuck E. Cheese's across the globe, no, he doesn't usually play in places like this. We were actually all really confused when we got the address."

"Yeah, in fact, the only one who didn't question this entire thing was Lindsay," Samuel commented absently.

"Who's Lindsay?" Damian asked.

"She's…" Sam suddenly stopped mid-sentence as his eyes shifted over to the area behind Damian. The Irish boy looked at him for a moment before turning to come face-to-face to a very young-looking girl in a black beret.

"Have you seen my mom and dad?" she asked shyly, clasping and unclasping her hands as she stared at Damian. He looked at her for a moment before smiling softly at her.

"I'm 'fraid not, sweetie. Where was the last you saw them?" he asked, twisting around in his chair so he could face her fully.

The girl opened her mouth to answer, but was suddenly interrupted by Bryce.

"Ask him to give you a dollar!" he shouted out, making everyone burst out laughing. Damian looked around in confusion.

"What—?"

The little girl huffed and stamped a foot in frustration. "Dammit Bryce, you ruined it! I totally had him!" she exclaimed, her voice suddenly getting lower in pitch.

"Oh come on, he would've figured it out anyway once he noticed all the make-up you were wearing," Bryce said to her as she walked around the table to take the empty seat next him.

"Suck it," she said, glaring at him before leaning forward with her hand out to Damian. "Hey, my name's Ellis."

"It's…great to meet you?" Damian said as he hesitantly took her hand. "I'm Damian and aren't you a little—"

"I'm eighteen," Ellis said, holding up a hand to stop him from finishing the question. "A very old eighteen, might I add."

Damian's eyes widened as she told him they were the same age. Hannah laughed at his reaction and leaned over to ruffle Ellis's hair, which Ellis attempted to duck away from.

"As old as she acts, she's always gonna be the baby of this group!" she said, laughing. Ellis was eventually able to pull Hannah's hand away and settle back in her chair.

"Please don't listen to them. I was hoping to change your view of me since it's really obvious you're the new guy," she said, crossing her arms and pretending to look away from them moodily.

She turned her head back. "Which reminds me, why exactly is a random Irish guy sitting with us? No offense."

"He's apparently a friend of Cameron's," Marissa told her. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "They just met."

"Ooh, bromance is in the air I see!" she said, laughing and everyone joined in, even Damian. Cameron definitely kept good company with him.

"Anyways," Ellis said as the laughter died down. "Cam's a really cool guy. A little bit full of himself sometimes, but he's got a good heart."

"Not to mention friggin' puppy dog eyes," Samuel muttered.

"I don't know," Hannah said, suddenly grabbing Damian's chin with a hand and turning his face towards her. "I think this guy might be able to give him a run for his money."

A sudden argument erupted over the table over whose eyes were prettier, but before Damian could actually comment himself, (and stop everyone from grabbing his face and staring into his eyes), the main lights of the establishment suddenly shut off and the lights hanging overhead beginning blinking and flashing with different colors.

_"Attention guests of Funderland!"_ a loud, goofy-sounding voice said from the speakers onstage._ "Please head to the viewing area in front of the stage to watch our very special musical performance!"_

The flashing and blinking stopped but the lights remained slightly dimmed in warning. Damian smiled at this. As much fun as it was hanging out with all these awesome people, he honestly couldn't wait to see Cameron again. And as a bonus, he would get to hear him sing as well.

"Hey, where is Lindsay?" Sam suddenly said, making the entire group apparently realize she was gone and began to twist around in their seats in attempts to spot her.

However, this was unnecessary as Damian noticed a black-haired girl come out from a door stating "Employees Only" and practically run right over to their table. The group quickly noticed her and began to wave her over but she suddenly stamped her hands on the table, making them jump.

"Hey guys!" she said breathlessly. Damian's eyebrows knitted together as he felt a pang of familiarity rush through him when he saw her. Unfortunately, his mind just couldn't place where he'd seen her before. Before anyone could greet her back, she started speaking a mile a minute.

"So uhm, I got good news and bad news. Good news is, Cam's about to go on in like," she glanced down at her watch. "Five minutes. But, here's the thing; you all have to go."

The group sat silent for a moment and looked at her in confusion, Damian himself included. The group began turning towards each other and whispering their current thoughts and confusions about the situation.

"Why?" Marissa finally asked.

"Yeah, Cam invited us here!" Sam added.

"Nope, I invited you," Lindsay quickly explained. Damian's eyes widened. "I took his phone and texted all of you into coming here. Now Cam's pissed, so all of you have to go now, bye!"

The Irish boy felt his insides freeze. He was an idiot. Of course Cameron wouldn't have invited him to something so big; they had just met! He shouldn't have come here at all. God, why was he so stupid?

"Why is he so mad at us being here?" Marissa asked.

"Look, he just doesn't want you guys to see how…low he's sunken," Lindsay said, choosing her words carefully.

"It can't be that bad!" Samuel said, giving Lindsay a look.

"Look, our pizza's almost ready, and I was planning on ordering chicken wings," Bryce said to everyone.

"Well, that seals the deal for me, we're staying!" Hannah exclaimed.

"It's all my fault!" Lindsay said, her voice starting to get desperate as she looked around at them. "Just please leave?"

The lights inside the building suddenly started flickering wildly again.

_"Everyone put your hands together!"_ the goofy voice said from the stage. It suddenly sounded a lot louder to Damian's ears than before.

"Alright," Marissa said, sighing as she started getting up. "If he really doesn't want us here…"

At her action, Damian also hesitantly started to get up. Ellis suddenly launched across the table to pull him back down.

"No way!" she yelled, turning towards Marissa. "I had to ask someone to cover for me at the restaurant; I am going to support this boy, dammit!"

_"Curtains going up in three!"_

This seemed to start the most intense argument the table had had all night.

"Guys, Lindsay says it's bad."

"Oh come on, Marissa, it's his first day on the job!"

_"Two!"_

"I had to drive all the way out here!"

"You really don't want to see Cam."

_"One!"_

"The chicken wings!"

_"Yaaaayyyyy!"_

Damian looked up at the stage as all the tables around them started applauding as the curtains came up. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened when he saw Cameron.

"Oh my God," Hannah breathed as the table stared up at the stage. Marissa dropped back in her seat in shock. Lindsay hung her head in dismay and sunk down to sit in the chair across from Damian.

The curtains had parted to reveal Cameron, just as Damian has remembered him. The only major differences this time was he wasn't wearing a suit and he had a guitar slung around his shoulder.

…Also, he was wearing a frog costume.

Damian blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn't seeing things but sure enough, the bright greens and yellows were still there.

It was quite comical how fitting the costume was for Cameron. His lanky limbs covered with green fabric perfectly mimicked those one would see on a frog. He was wearing gloves that had sticky-looking yellow finger pads. On his feet were two pairs of flippers, smaller than ones you'd use for swimming, but large enough to draw attention to them.

"Hello there, everybody!" Cameron said into the microphone brightly. Damian heard Marissa stifle a laugh as Cam spoke out of the open mouth of a frog head with large googly eyes on the top of his head. "Who's ready to have fun tonight?"

As various kids at the tables waved their hands and shouted out, "Me! Me!" Damian discreetly glanced at Samuel. His cheeks were puffed up and his shoulders were shaking.

"Alright, awesome!" Cameron said with a bright smile. Damian bit his lip and tried to suppress a grin at how hard he was selling the "happy, cheery" façade probably all the employees there had to fake. "Well, me and my animal friends—," Damian heard Ellis make a stifled squeak while Bryce accidentally snorted. "Are here to help!"

It was then that he noticed Cameron had an entire band right behind him; they were all dressed up in their own costumes. From what he could tell, there was a penguin behind the keyboard, an elephant on the bass, and a dolphin on the drums. He took a quick inhale before pinching his lips tightly together.

"Because nothing's more fun than music! Am I right?" Damian heard a thump nearby. Ellis couldn't take it anymore and was laughing with her arms crossed over her head.

"Whatever you say, frog legs," Hannah muttered, her lip quivering. From what Damian could see, everyone at the table was unraveling at the seams.

But then Cameron started strumming, the band behind him following suit with their own instruments. The table seemed to pause as a familiar tune rang out from the stage

Cameron then started singing and bouncing up and down to the upbeat rhythm. Sam let out the air he had been holding in his cheeks, and Ellis slowly lifted her head from the table, Lindsay hesitantly following suit.

_"Well he rocks in the treetops, a~ll day long,"_ Cameron sang, leaning in towards the microphone._ "Hoppin' and a'boppin and a'singing his song."_

Cameron's smile seemed to become more genuine as the song continued, his feet moving a little more.

_"All the little birdies on,"_ He pointed from the left of the audience and moved his hand along._ "Jay, bird, street._

_Loved to hear that robin goin' tweet, tweet, tweet,"_

"Rockin' robin!" Damian looked up to see Marissa had stood back up to shout the next lyric and then began clapping along. He let out a laugh when Samuel looked up and quickly started doing the same.

_"Blo~ow Rockin' Robin, cuz' we're really gonna rock tonight! Yeah!"_

Damian started tapping his hands on the table to the beat as everyone at the house starting getting into the music. He was really good. Not that, you know, Damian had doubted him on his musical prowess. Not even for a second.

_"Pretty little raven at the bird-band stand_

_Told them how to do the bop and it was grand,"_

And then he was being tugged up by Hannah to dance. He laughed as he tried to awkwardly move in time to the music, he never was much of a dancer. It didn't seem to matter the redhead, though, because she was twirling and moving to the music without a care in the world.

_"They started going steady and bless my soul_

_He out-bopped the buzzard and the…"_

"Oriole!" Damian not only heard him and their entire table (which had all gotten up to dance) yell out, but the other tables around them too. Looking behind him, he saw that parents were also out of their seats and were dancing with their own kids on the floor.

"He rocks in the tree tops all day long," Cameron sang as the song was starting to come to a close. By now, their table had already switched out dance partners about four times over. He was currently bumping hips with Samuel while they were trying not to laugh at how ridiculous they looked.

_"Hoppin' and a-boppin' and singing his song,_

_All the little birdies on Jaybird Street,_

_Loved to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet,_

_Rockin' robin!"_

"Tweet! Tweet, tweet!" Damian sang out as he and Sam turned to face each other.

_"Rockin' robin!"_

"Tweet! Tweetly-tweet!"

_"Bl~ow rockin' robin,_

_'Cause we're really gonna rock tonight!"_

When the song ended with the last whistle, the crowd immediately turned toward the stage to start clapping and whooping. Their own table was particularly loud. Even Lindsay had started smiling and turned in her chair to applaud them.

Cameron smiled out at the audience, looking so happy that Damian couldn't help but smile even more. They could make fun of what he was wearing later. For now, they were gonna be there to watch an amazing show.

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes:<strong> Because school's in session now, I'm probably going to have_ seriously_ inconsistent updates. I promise you guys, though, I'll have them up as soon as I possibly can!

Seriously love all you guys, though. All the reviews and feedback and messages always bring the dumbest smile on my face, you have no idea.

Also, tell me your thoughts on this chapter! I love hearing people's points of view on the story.

Love 3!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes:** TOOK SO LONG ACK. All the messages I've gotten to update make me both sad and so happy at the same time. On the one, you want me to continue so much, it makes me feel so great about my writing! On the other, pressure, pressure, hyperventilating, *dead*.

* * *

><p>The evening simply got better from there, at least in Damian's point of view. Almost everyone that was watching got up and moved for most of the show. Cameron was singing various Disney songs ("Under the Sea" and "Be Our Guest" being a couple of Damian's favorites) and some pop singles a few of the older tweens in the audience would know.<p>

"Man, this place is awesome!" Hannah called over the music as she swayed in time to it. Sam laughed in his seat, his mouth stuffed with the chicken wings that had recently been delivered.

He swallowed it down and responded, "Yeah, this place way better than the usual clubs we hang out at!"

"Give me twenty bucks and I'll jump in the ball pit," Bryce suddenly said, abruptly standing up from his seat. Ellis almost immediately picked up her wallet and stood as well.

"I am not missing this!" she called behind her as she and Bryce left the table. Damian smiled after them as they left.

When he turned back to look up at the stage, his eyes ended up focusing on Lindsay. The two hadn't talked at all since she got to the table to announce that everyone had to leave, and Damian thought that she was simply ignoring everything to relieve the stress she was probably feeling.

However, it didn't seem to be working, as she currently had her eyes downcast to the table and was rubbing her temples methodically. Damian frowned. It was obvious the girl was really upset. Without thinking, he got up from his chair and walked around the table to take the seat beside her.

Lindsay looked up at him for a moment as she heard him pull the chair out, but looked back down listlessly. For a few moments, Damian simply sat there, trying to think of something to say. After more silence took over, he finally sighed and touched her on the shoulder gently to get her to look at him again.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, genuinely worried for her. Lindsay stared at him, a wary expression on her face.

She looked down at the table once more, still not saying anything to him. Damian waited patiently. She didn't ask him to move, so he was going to just stay right where he was.

He was still sitting beside Lindsay when she suddenly sighed and looked up at him with worried eyes.

"Did…Did I screw up?" she asked. Damian's eyebrows knitted together at the strange question.

"I-I mean," Lindsay attempted to clarify, twisting slightly in her seat so she could fully face him.

"Planning all of this was my idea. I thought Cameron would be happy that all his friends were here for support but he, um, well…wasn't."

"I'd imagine," Damian said, letting out a soft chuckle. Lindsay gave him a distressed smile. It was a smile, nonetheless, so Damian still felt he had made some progress.

"It's just that I've known Cam a long time," she said, turning to face the table again. "And I…really hate it when he's upset with me. Is it selfish for me to think that?"

As she finished her last sentence, she quickly looked over at Damian with her eyes and the bridge of her nose scrunched. She honestly wanted an answer. Damian looked at her expressionlessly.

"…You're kidding, right?" he bluntly said. Lindsay straightened up in her seat, looking slightly offended at his tone.

"No, I don't mean it like that!" Damian quickly said, realizing how he must have sounded. "But, come on now. You can't seriously think that yer selfish. I mean you care about Cameron a whole lot, that's why you did all this in the first place. And if Cam's known you for as long as you've known him, then I'm almost completely certain that he can't be upset with you. Not one bit."

Lindsay just stared at Damian as he turned in his chair to face the table and rested his arms on it as he continued.

"I mean, I've met Cam. I know I haven't known him for as long as you have at all, but even you have to see that he isn't the type of person to hold grudges, ya'know? And besides, you were thinking about him when you did all this, so that's the thing that counts."

Damian shrugged and let his hands fall onto the table with a soft "thump". "I dunno, if my friends did this for me, I'd probably love 'em even more."

There was a long moment of silence where Lindsay simply stared at Damian as he just stared off into space.

"My name's Lindsay. Lindsay Pearce," Damian snapped out of his self-induced trance to turn his head over to her. She was sticking a hand out to him, looking at him with a soft smile. He grinned widely as he took her hand.

"Damian McGinty—"

"Alright guys, you have been an absolutely amazing audience tonight!"

Damian let go of her hand and looked up at the stage as Cameron spoke. He didn't see Lindsay's hand go completely limp at his introduction and an expression of shock spreading over her face.

"But, uh," Cameron started. He quickly glanced behind him as the person in the dolphin costume came out with a stool and set it down behind him. He turned back around. "We're going to be wrapping up pretty soon. To help the night wind down a little bit, we've decided to end with a bit of a slower song. I'm almost certain all you parents out there will recognize it…"

With that, Cameron took a step back and sat down on the stool. Adjusting his guitar strap and reaching out to adjust the microphone stand properly, he cleared his throat.

Damian looked up briefly as Ellis and Bryce came back from the ball pit and watched as Hannah, Marissa, and Sam, looked up from their conversation to listen.

Cameron began strumming softly and the sound of another band member playing the ukulele joined in.

"_Ooh, ooh ooh oh, ooh ooh oh, ooh ooh…"_

"_Ooh, ooh, ooh…"_

"Oh God, I love this song," Damian heard Hannah whisper excitedly as she recognized the tune. He wasn't really paying attention to her, though. His eyes were on Cameron.

"_Oh, some, where, over the rainbow…_

_Way up high…_

_There's, a, land that I dreamed of,_

_Once, in a lulla…_

_Buh~ye, buh~uh~ye…"_

Damian tore his gaze away from the stage to look around their table and at the ones near them. Unlike the other songs, no one was getting up to dance. However, all of them were staring up at the stage, completely star-struck.

"_Oh some, where, over the rainbow…_

_Skies are blue…"_

Damian turned back to the stage as the next line started. He probably looked exactly like them.

"_And, the, dreams that you dare to dream,_

_Really do come true~oo~oo,_

_Ooh…"_

He blinked his eyes up at the stage. Cameron was special, Damian fully realized that now. And despite being all dressed up in a frog get-up and the majority of his audience being elementary school kids…

Damian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Up on that stage and underneath all those lights, Cam looked like a rock star.

There was a brief interlude where it was simply just the plucking of Cam's guitar and the ukulele accompanying him. The blond-haired man was so focused on playing the instrument, Damian wasn't sure if he even remembered the audience right in front of him.

And then he suddenly looked up, right at their front table. Damian could have sworn he felt his heart stop, because sitting at the center of the table, it almost felt as though Cameron was looking right at him. Just as quickly, however, he was looking out at the majority of the audience once more.

"_Ohh, someday I'll wish upon a star,_

_And wake up where the clouds are far,_

_Behind,_

_Me~ee!"_

Behind him, Samuel was smiling up at the stage while Marissa wordlessly swayed her head to the rhythm.

"_Where troubles melt like lemon drops,_

_High above the chimney tops, _

_That's where, you'll fi~ind me!"_

Damian wasn't sure when it started happening. If he had to guess, it was probably back when Cameron had looked at him at the beginning of his verse. He began to become aware of a small flutter in his stomach. 'No. Please, God, no,' he was suddenly thinking desperately, 'Cameron is straight.'

Damian's smile slowly disappeared as the performance continued. The simple statement echoed loudly through his head. Ironically, focusing on Cameron's voice was the only way for him to stifle it.

"_Oh some, where, over the rainbow,_

_Bluebirds fly~,_

_Birds fly, over the rainbow,_

_Why, then oh why can't, I~?, I~?"_

Cameron stared down at the strings as he strummed out the last chord. It rang out through the audience, no one at the tables spoke except for a couple rambunctious toddlers.

And then everyone was quickly on their feet, clapping and whooping louder than they had at any of the performances before. Cameron laughed at the sight in front of him, most likely because of the extra loud cheers coming from the front table

"Thank you so much everybody!" Cameron said into the microphone, getting up from the stool. "You've been such a wonderful audience! The band and I have been honored to play for you tonight!"

As the band started clearing the stage, he moved to go off the stage but quickly snapped back to the microphone.

"By the way, the salad bar is half-off for parents; just make sure to show 'em your kids. Have a good night everybody!"

With that, Cameron took the guitar and its strap off of his shoulders and, holding the instrument securely, jumped off the front of the stage and onto floor-level, less than about four feet away from Damian's table.

Cameron made a bee-line for them, and the entire group still up on their feet from applauding his last song. Everyone from the table started meeting him halfway. There was a moment of silence as Cameron stared at them all before he sighed.

"So, uh, on a scale of one to ten…how bad was it?" he asked, tilting his head downward and his eyes looking up at them meekly. Hannah slowly took a step forward and placed a hand on his green-clad shoulder.

"…You really rocked the frog costume."

Everyone seemed to take that as a cue to suddenly swarm him with praise and thoughts and comments.

"Dude, you rocked it!" Samuel said, immediately clapping Cameron's hand into a "bro" handshake when Hannah backed away from him.

"I know I did," Cameron said, shrugging and laughing immediately afterwards. Marissa then rushed forward to pull him into a hug.

"Seriously Cam? That was, like, one of your best shows ever!" she said, smiling proudly at him when she let go.

"Ha, thanks 'Riss," he said awkwardly, giving her a crooked half-smile and rubbing the back of his head with his hand. Damian, meanwhile, had also gotten up along with everyone, though stood a little ways behind to let Cameron speak to his closer friends first.

But when Cameron looked up and locked eyes with him behind Marissa and Sam, Damian's action was proved moot as Cameron was suddenly pulling off his frog head, and handed it to Samuel. He walked right to Damian and stopped in front of him.

Somehow, Damian didn't fidget as Cameron seemed to stare at him, and he simply looked at the blond with a smile of congratulations. It almost felt as though Cameron was only looking at him just to see if he was really there.

"So…" Cameron finally started, looking at Damian with a small grin on his face. "You're here."

"Yeah," Damian replied, nodding. It sounded much more breathless than he meant it to be. "I didn't want to miss it. And I honestly have no regrets watching it."

The grin on Cameron's face widened and Damian couldn't help himself from copying it.

"So where have you been hiding this Irish dreamboat, Cam?" Both of them suddenly seemed to remember that they weren't alone as Ellis suddenly appeared beside Damian, grabbing his arm and pretending to gaze up adoringly at him.

"Yeah, you just been keepin' him to yourself?" Hannah asked, walking up next to Cameron and smacking him on the arm.

"He's my lucky leprechaun," Cameron explained haughtily to them, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't just go showing him off to everyone."

Damian laughed out loud as Marissa slung an arm around his neck.

"Well, too bad," she said to Cameron, tilting her head so it rested against Damian's shoulder. "Now that he showed up, you have to share now."

Cameron smirked and looked at him. "You seemed to have made a good first impression," he said, Damian merely shrugging. "So, I guess you can stay."

"Yay!" All three girls squealed. Damian felt inexplicably proud during that moment as the group seemed to accept him with open arms.

* * *

><p>Their merry little band ended up staying at "Funderland" until it closed at ten-thirty. During that time, Cameron had gone back into the changing room to change out of his costume (though Bryce and Samuel insisted that the frog head stay on the table. Everyone was taking turns wearing it).<p>

Cameron walked next to Damian as everyone made their way out of the building. To say he was happy that Damian had come to the show was an understatement. And while he wished the Irish boy had seen him in better, well, "conditions", the fact that he had showed up made Cameron feel good. If asked, he wouldn't have been able to provide a decent explanation.

There was just something about Damian that felt…right.

"See ya later, Cam!" Marissa said, waving, before she and Lindsay started their way over to Lindsay's car.

"We have to do this another time," Ellis said, smiling up at Cameron before walking off to her car with Hannah right behind her.

"Yeah, you guys will never see me in that costume again! Ever!" Cameron called after her.

"Unlikely!" he heard Samuel say from somewhere to his left.

"So many frog jokes to come!" he heard Bryce add.

Cameron couldn't suppress the grin on his face as he watched the cars begin starting up and one by one, drive out of the lot. Tonight had definitely been one of the best (and most humiliating) nights he'd had in a while.

He suddenly heard a pinging noise beside him and looked over to see Damian still standing beside him, starting to turn on his phone.

"You don't have a ride?" Cameron asked, turning. Damian looked up at him, surprised he had asked.

"Ah, well…I do. I'm calling him now so he can come down here from my home," Damian then explained to him, shrugging as he looked back to scroll through his phone.

"That's a pretty long wait," Cameron commented without thinking. The other paused and looked up at him curiously. "I mean, you're going to be out here all alone and stuff…"

Damian smirked. "What, just because I'm rich you automatically assume I'll end up mugged within fifteen seconds on my own?"

"I did not say that," Cameron said, smiling cockily and turning to look out at the parking lot.

"That was implied."

"I did not imply that," Cameron looked back to see Damian crossing his arms. The playful smile on Cameron's face disappeared for a second as he stared at Damian's face for half a moment longer than he should have.

"I was implying," Cameron suddenly said, looking away from Damian. "That…"

The blond hesitated as he thought through his next words.

"Yeah?" Damian asked as the silence stretched between them.

"Maybe…" Cameron started. He looked over at Damian seriously. "I could give you a ride." Damian's eyes widened at the suggestion. "I—what, no! Th—that is just _way_ too much trouble Cam…"

"What are you talking about?" Cameron said incredulously. "Save gas, help the environment, all that good stuff."

He had only meant for it as something to consider, but suddenly he felt it was suddenly his mission to drive the richer man home. Despite the two of them previously looking at it comically, the thought of Damian being out at night by himself worried Cameron.

…For some weird reason.

'Wait, it's not weird!' he thought to himself quickly. 'If it were Hannah, or Lindsay, you'd do the exact same thing…'

Cameron discreetly looked Damian up and down. 'Except Damian's not a girl.'

He blinked as he thought this. 'Right…He's not a girl.'

As Cameron felt that his mind was about to explode from the amount of obvious facts he was repeating to himself, Damian simply stood in front of him, chewing on the inside of his cheek in contemplation.

"…Alright," he finally said as Cameron was repeating, 'not a girl, not a girl,' in his brain. The Irish man smiled at him. "If you so insist."

Cameron returned the smile before quickly grabbing Damian's wrist and leading him off to where Cameron had parked. He couldn't stop himself from being reminded of the other night when he had pulled Damian down to sit next to him in the garden.

As the scooter came into sight Cameron let go of Damian (who he, belatedly, realized he still hadn't let go of in the first place) and "presented" the black scooter with a grand wave of his arms.

"…Ta-dah!"

A long stretch of silence occurred as Damian seemed to take a moment to observe the vehicle. Cameron's arms awkwardly dropped down to his sides.

"Erm," he started nervously. "I know it's probably not the fancy Lamborghinis and sports cars that you're used to but—"

"That is awesome."

"What?"

"Awesome," Damian repeated, looking away from the scooter to look at Cameron gleefully. "It's what that thing is."

Cameron stared at him like he was crazy.

"Ha!" he suddenly barked as he clapped Damian on the shoulder, making him slightly jump in surprise.

"Where have you been all my life?" he asked as he started to make his way to the scooter, not noticing Damian's jaw slightly drop at the statement.

"Well let's see here…" Cameron sighed as he gave the scooter a once-over and grabbed the helmet tucked in front of the seat. He smiled as he made his way over to Damian and dropped the helmet onto his head.

"Ack!" Damian yelled out as the headgear tilted over his eyes. He righted it and looked up at Cameron, confused.

"I only have one," Cameron explained to him, walking back to sit in the front seat. He looked over his shoulder. "And let's face it; your head is worth about a million dollars more than mine."

Damian huffed and shook his head as he begrudgingly clicked the strap in. "That is not true," he said matter-of-factly as he walked over to the seat.

"Oh, but it so is," Cameron countered, shaking his head woefully and scooting up a little bit in the seat to help give Damian more room. It was then that he suddenly remembered just how close they'd be once they were both on.

"So I just…?" Cameron maintained his focus in keeping the bike steady as Damian scooted onto the back seat.

"Er," Cameron said, looking over his shoulder. "You have to—,"

He suddenly felt lithe, but strong, arms wrap around his waist. "Like this?"

"…Yeah," the blonde man responded, though the answer came out slightly rushed and a little bit rough. Cameron smacked the handle loudly to distract himself from the blush beginning to creep along the back of his neck.

"Alright!" he said loudly, turning on the ignition. He repressed a smile when he felt Damian's grip tighten around him as the vehicle started vibrating slightly. "Don't worry; we'll be there before you know it."

He ignored the thought that popped up in the back of his head, saying, 'I really hope not.'

When they puttered their way out of the parking lot and onto the road, Cameron tried to remember the way Lindsay had taken when they had driven to the party. Of course, it was nearly impossible for him to completely remember the exact route.

"Do I turn here?" he asked when he came stoplights he wasn't all too sure about. At first, Damian would simply nod or shake his head, most likely to afraid to speak or else he'd end up falling on the road.

Cameron laughed when he noticed this. Damian leaned forward to look at him in confusion. "What?"

"Relax already!" Cameron laughed, practically feeling the other glare at him. "I gave you the helmet for a reason. And besides, if we crash, chances are the driver will be the one most injured."

Cameron wasn't all too sure that was a clear-cut fact; he'd only said it to get Damian to not feel as nervous. Oddly enough, Cameron could almost swear he felt the hands clapped around each other around his stomach tighten for a second.

"You turn left at the next intersection," Damian said after a few moments of driving in silence. He didn't seem to realize, however, that he was practically breathing right into Cameron's ear. The blond tried to ignore the little jump in his chest when this happened and obediently turned as the light turned green.

As weird as it sounded, the entire situation didn't feel all that weird to Cameron. Damian riding behind him…it wasn't awkward. In fact, it felt a little right. As the scooter turned down a deserted residential road, the blond smirked as an idea popped into his head.

"You wanna do something cool?" he asked, turning his head slightly over his shoulder. He caught Damian beginning to raise an eyebrow before turning to look forward again.

"What—"

Cameron revved up the engine, making the scooter speed up well past the speed limit. He heard Damian gasp behind him and felt him bury his face in between Cameron's shoulder blades. Cameron laughed as the Irishman lifted his head the slightest bit to get closer to the driver's ear.

"Slow down! You're going too fast!—"

"Look up!" Cameron called to interrupt him. The grip around his waist became tighter as he felt his frightened passenger back off a little bit to obey the instruction .Cameron smirked to himself as he knew exactly what Damian was seeing for the first time.

The funny thing about scooters, and one of the reasons Cameron bought one (instead of a car, like everyone else), is that you're not restricted to a little box. In the moments you don't have to pay complete attention to the road, you can practically feel the scenery around you shift and move.

Cameron didn't have to look behind him to know that Damian was staring at the houses as they flew past him while at the same time feeling the cool night air hit his face. He heard the younger man begin laughing in disbelief, to which Cameron happily joined in.

"Wow," Damian breathed. Cameron jumped as he felt him shift upwards a little bit and looked back to see Damian pointing towards the sky. "Look!"

Cameron looked up and let out a breathless laugh when he realized what Damian was talking about.

Hanging in the sky, there was a perfect crescent moon. It was the kind you'd see at the beginning of a Dreamworks movie, or in a kid's picture book. And there it was, looking as though it was just dangling by a string above their heads. The lights were bright in L.A., so they couldn't see any stars, but just seeing that beautifully-shaped moon giving off its ethereal glow was as good as any Big Dipper or North Star.

Cameron felt the hands around his waist slowly begin to let go. He started looking behind him in panic but froze when he felt arms fall over his shoulders and fold themselves over his chest instead. He felt a light weight on his left shoulder and a quick glance in that direction showed him that Damian was holding up his chin with it, continuing to gaze up at the sky.

Cameron attempted to force away the flush that began creeping along his face, though ended up failing. He was grateful that Damian's attention was still aimed upwards. Cameron decided then to focus solely on the road, his heartbeat slowing down but still thumping wildly as Damian's weight around him never shifted.

He randomly wondered why he hadn't crashed the scooter yet.

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes:<strong> Well damn. Took ten chapters for them to even _remotely_ begin liking each other. That has to be a record somewhere. I deserve a friggin' medal for making this ramble on and on for so long. :P

Would've posted this up sooner but the computer's being crappy and I need to do science homework. Blech to both of those. Oh! And once again, chapter updates will be about as consistent as Ryan Murphy's writing. You have been _warned_.


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